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INTRODUCTION. 



In the course of occasional visits to Canada many years 
since, I became intimately acquainted with some of the prin- 
cipal partners of the great Northwest Fur Company, who at 
that time lived in genial style at Montreal, and kept almost 
open house for the stranger. At their hospitable boards I o< ca- 
sionally met with partners, and clerks, and hardy fur traders 
from the interior posts; men who had passed years remote 
from civilized society, among distant and savage tribes, and 
who had wonders to recount of their wide and wild peregrina- 
tions, their hunting exploits, and their perilous adventures and 
^Rir-breadth escapes among the Indians. I was at an age 
^^hen imagination lends its coloring to every thing, and the 
Tstories of these Sinbads of the wilderness made the life of a 
^Trapper and fur trader perfect romance to me. I even medi- 
cated at one time a visit to the remote posts of the company in 
^he boats which annually ascended the lakes and rivers, being 
^ihereto invited by one of the partners ; and I have ever since 
^regretted that I was prevented by circumstances from carry- 
ing my intention into effect. From those early impressions, 
the grand enterprises of the great fur companies, and the 
hazardous errantry of their associates in the wild parts of our 
vast continent, have always been themes of charmed interest 
to me ; and I have felt anxious to get at the details of their ad- 
venturous expeditions among the savage tribes that peopled 
the depths of the wilderness. 

About two years ago, not long after my return from a tour 
upon the prairies of the far West, I had a conversation with my 
friend, Mr. John Jacob Astor, relative to that portion of our 
country, and to the adventurous traders to Santa Fe and the 
Columbia. This led him to advert to a great enterprise set on 
foot and conducted by him, between twenty and thirty years 



4 INTRODUCTION. 

since, having for its object to carry the fir trade across the 
Eocky Mountains, and to sweep the shores of the Pacific. 

Finding that I took an interest in the subject, he expressed 
a regret that the true nature and extent of his enterprise and 
its national character and importance had never been under- 
stood, and a wish that I would undertake to give an account 
of it. The suggestion struck upon the chord of early associa- 
tions, already vibrating in my mind. It occurred to me that 
a work of this kind might comprise a variety of those curious 
details, so interesting to me, illustrative of the fur trade ; of its 
remote and adventurous enterprises, and of the various people, 
and tribes, and castes, and characters, civilized and savage, 
affected by its operations. The journals, and letters also, of 
the adventurers by sea and land employed by Mr. Astor in his 
comprehensive project, might throw light upon portions of our 
country quite out of the track of ordinary travel, and as yet 
but little known. I therefore felt disposed to undertake the 
task, provided documents of sufficient extent and minuteness 
could be furnished to me. All the papers relative to the en- 
terprise were accordingly submitted to my inspection. Among 
them were journals and letters narrating expeditions by sea, 
and journeys to and fro across the Eocky Mountains by routes 
before untravelled, together with documents illustrative of 
savage and colonial life on the borders of the Pacific. With 
such materials in hand, I undertook the work. The trouble of 
rummaging among business papers, and of collecting and col- 
lating facts from amid tedious and commonplace details, was 
spared me by my nephew, Pierre M. Irving, who acted as my 
pioneer, and to whom I am greatly indebted for smoothing my 
path and lightening my labors. 

As the journals on which I chiefly depended had been kept 
by men of business, intent upon the main object of the enter- 
prise, and but little versed in science, or curious about matters 
not immediately bearing upon their interests, and as they were 
written often in moments of fatigue or hurry, amid the incon- 
veniences of wild encampments, they were often meagre in % 
their details, furnishing hints to provoke rather than narra- 
tives to satisfy inquiry. I have, therefore, availed myself 
occasionally of collateral lights supplied by the published jour- 
nals of other travellers who have visited the scenes described : 
such as Messrs. Lewis and Clarke, Bradbury, Breckenridge, 
Long, Franchere, and Eoss Cox, and make a general acknowl- 
edgment of aid received from these Quarters. 






INTRODUCTION-. 5 

The work I here present to the public is necessarily of a 
rambling and somewhat disjointed nature, comprising various 
expeditions and adventures by land and sea. The facts, how- 
■ever, will prove to be linked and banded together by one 
grand scheme, devised and conducted by a master spirit ; one 
^et of characters, also, continues throughout, appearing occa- 
sionally, though sometimes at long intervals, and the whole 
enterprise winds up by a regular catastrophe; so that the 
work, without any labored attempt at artificial construction, 
actually possesses much of that unity so much sought after in 
works of fiction ard (r>Lsidc*^d so important to the interest of 
^ve*y history. 



&££ 



CONTENTS. 



±"AGK 

Introduction ' 3 



CHAPTER I. 

Objects of American enterprise — gold hunting and fur trading — their effect on 
colonization — early French Canadian settlers— Ottowa and Huron hunters— 
an Indian trading camp— couriers des bois, or rangers of the woods— their 
roaming life— their revels and excesses — licensed traders — missionaries — trad- 
ing posts — primitive French Canadian merchant — his establishment and de- 
pendants — British Canadian fur merchant — origin of the Northwest Company 
—its constitution— its internal trade— a candidate for the company— privations 
in the wilderness — northwest clerks — northwest partners — a northwest nabob 
—feudal notions in the forest — the lords of the lakes— Fort William— its par- 
liamentary hall and banqueting room— was sailing in the wilderness 17 



CHAPTER II. 

Rise of the Mackinaw Company— attempt of the American government to 
counteract foreign influence over the Indian tribes— John Jacob Astor— his 
birth-place— his arrival in the United States— what first turned his attention 
to the fur trade — his character, enterprises, and success — his communications 
with the American government— origin of the American Fur Company 



CHAPTER HI. 

Fur trade in the Pacific — American coasting voyages — Russian enterprises — dis- 
covery of the Columbia River — Carver's project to found a settlement there — 
Mackenzie's expedition — Lewis and Clarke's journey across the Rocky Moun- 
tains — Mr. Astor' s grand commercial scheme— his correspondence on the sub- 
ject with Mr. Jefferson— his negotiations with the Northwest Company— his 
steps to carry his scheme into effect 30 



CHAPTER IV. 

Two expeditions set on foot— the Tonquin and her crew— Captain Thorn, his 
character— the partners and clerks— Canadian voyageurs, their habits, em- 
ployments, dress . character, songs— expedition of a Canadian boat and its 
crew by land and water— arrival at New York— preparations for a sea voyage — 
northwest braggarts— underhand precautions— letter of instructions ^0 



8 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER V. 

PAGE 

Sailing of the Tonquin— a rigid commander and a reckless crew— landsmen on 
shipboard— fresh-water sailors at sea— lubber nests— ship fare— a Labrador 
veteran — literary clerks — curious travellers — Robinson Crusoe's Island — 
quarter-deck quarrels— Falkland Islands— a wild goose chase— Port Egmont— 
epitaph hunting— Old Mortality —penguin shooting— sportsmen left in the 
lurch— a hard pull— further altercations— arrival at Owyhee 46 



CHAPTER VI. 

Owyhee— Sandwich Islanders— their nautical talents— Tamaahmaah— his navy 
—his negotiations— views of Mr. Astor with respect to the Sandwich Islands— 
Karakakora— royal monopoly of pork— description of the islanders— gayeties 
on shore— chronicler of the island— place where Captain Cook was killed— 
John Young, a nautical governor— his story— Waititi— a royal residence— a 
royal visit— grand ceremonials— close dealing— a royal pork merchant— griev- 
ances of a matter- of -fact man 54 

CHAPTER VH. 

Departure from the Sandwich Islands— misunderstandings— miseries of a sus- 
picious man— arrival at the Columbia— dangerous service— gloomy apprehen- 
sions—bars and breakers— perils of the ship — disasters of a boat's crew- 
burial of a Sandwich Islander 64 

CHAPTER VHI. 

Mouth of the Columbia— the native tribes— their fishing— their canoes— bold 
navigators— equestrian Indians and piscatory Indians, difference in their phy- 
sical organization — search for a trading site — expedition of M'Dougal and 
David Stewart — Comcomly, the one-eyed chieftain — influence of wealth in 
savage life— slavery among the natives— an aristocracy of Flatheads— hospi- 
tality among the Chinooks— Comcomly 's daughter — her conquest 70 

CHAPTER IX. 

Point George— founding of Astoria— Indian visitors— their reception — the cap- 
tain taboos the ship— departure of the Tonquin— comments on the conduct of 
Captain Thorn 75 

CHAPTER X. 

Disquieting rumors from the interior— reconnoitering party— preparations for a 
trading post— an unexpected arrival— a spy in the camp — expedition into the 
interior — shores of the Columbia — Mount Coffin — Indian Sepulchre — the land 
of spirits— Columbian valley— Vancouver's Point — falls and rapids — a great 
fishing mart — the village of Wish-ram — difference between fishing Indians and 
hunting Indians— effect of habits of trade on the Indian character— post estab- 
lished at the Oakinagan 78 

CHAPTER XI. 

Alarm at Astoria— rumor of Indian hostilities— preparations for defence — tragi- 
cal fate of the Tonquin .' 86 



% 



CONTENTS. 9 



CHAPTER XH. 

PAGE 

Gloom at Astoria— an ingenious stratagem— the small-pox chief— launching of 
the Dolly — an arrival — a Canadian trapper — a freeman of the forest — an Iro- 
quois hunter— winter on the Columbia— festivities of New Year . 94 



CHAPTER HE. 

Expedition by land— Wilson P. Hunt— his character— DoDaldM'Kenzie— recruit- 
ing service among the voyageurs— a bark [canoe — chapel of St. Anne— votive 
offerings— pious carousals— a ragged regiment— Mackinaw— picture of a trad- 
ing post— frolicking voyageurs— swells and swaggers— Indian coxcombs— a 
man of the north— jockey ship of voyageurs— inemcacy of gold— weight of a 
feather— Mr. Ramsay Crooks — his character — his risks among the Indians — his 
warning concerning the Sioux and Blackfeet— embarkation of recruits— part- 
ing scenes between brothers, cousins, wives, sweethearts and pot companions, gg 

CHAPTER XIV. 

St. Louis— its situation— motley population— French Creole traders and their 
dependants— Missouri Fur Company— Mr. Manuel Lisa— Mississippi boatmen 
—vagrant Indians— Kentucky hunters— [old French mansion— fiddling— bil- 
liards — Mr. Joseph Miller — his character — recruits — voyage up the Missouri — 
difficulties of the river — merits of Canadian voyageurs — arrival at the Nodo- 
wa— Mr. Robert M'Lellan joins the party— John Day, a Virginia hunter— de- 
scription of him— Mr. Hunt returns to St. Louis 106 

CHAPTER XV. 

Opposition of the Missouri Fur Company— Blackfeet Indians— Pierre Dorion, a 
half-breed interpreter— old Dorion and his hybrid progeny— family quarrels- 
cross purposes between Dorion and Lisa — renegadoes from Nodowa — perplexi- 
ties of a commander— Messrs. Bradbury and Nuttall join the expedition— legal 
embarrassments of Pierre Dorion — departure from St. Louis — conjugal disci- 
pline of a half breed— annual swelling of the rivers— Daniel Boon, the patri- 
arch of Kentucky— John Colter— his adventures among the Indians— rumors 
of danger ahead— Fort Osage— an Indian war-feast— troubles in the Dorion 
family -Buffaloes and turkey-buzzards Ill 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Return of spring— appearance of snakes— great flights of wild pigeons— re- 
newal of the voyage— night encampments — Platte River — ceremonials on pass- 
ing it— signs of Indian war parties— magnificent prospect at Papillion Creek- 
desertion of two hunters— an irruption into the camp of Indian desperadoes- 
village of the Omahas— anecdotes of the tribe— feudal wars of the Indians- 
story of Blackbird, the famous Omaha chief 121 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Rumors of danger from the Sioux Tetons— ruthless character of those savages 
— pirates of the Missouri — their affair with Crooks and M'Lellan — a trading 
expedition broken up — M'Lellan's vow of vengeance — uneasiness in the camp 
— desertions—departure from the Omalm, village— meeting with Jones and 



10 CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Carson, two adventurous trappers— scientific pursuits of Messrs. Bradbury 
and Nuttall— zeal of a botanist^adventure of Mr. Bradbury with a Ponca In- 
dian—expedient of the pocket compass and microscope— a messenger from 
Lisa— motives for pressing forward 131 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Camp gossip— deserters— recruits— Kentucky hunters— a veteran woodman — 
tidings of Mr. Henry— danger from the Blackfeet— alteration of plans— scen- 
ery of the river— buffalo roads— iron ore— country of the Sioux— a land of dan- 
ger—apprehensions of the voyageurs— Indian scouts— threatened hostilities— 
a council of war— an array of battle— a parley— the pipe of peace— speech- 
making 13 8 

CHAPTER XIX. 

±ne great bend of the Missouri— Crooks and M'Lellan meet with two of their In- 
dian opponents— wanton outrage of a white man the cause of Indian hostilities 
—dangers and precautions— an Indian war party— dangerous situation of Mr. 
Hunt— a friendly encampment— feasting and dancing— approach of Manuel 
Lisa and his party— a grim meeting between old rivals— Pierre Dorion in a 
fury— a burst of chivalry 146 

CHAPTER XX. 

Features of the wilderness— herds of buffalo— antelopes— their varieties and 
habits— John Day— his hunting stratagem— interview with three Arickaras— 
negotiations between the rival parties— the Left-handed and the Big Man, two 
Arickara chiefs— Arickara village— its inhabitants— ceremonials on landing — 
a council lodge— grand conference— speech of Lisa— negotiation for horses- 
shrewd suggestion of Gray Eyes, an Arickara chief— encampment of the trad- 
ing parties 152 

CHAPTER XXI. 

An Indian horse fair— love of the Indians for horses— scenes in the Arickara vil- 
lage — Indian hospitality — duties of Indian women — game habits of the men — 
their indolence — love of gossiping — rumors of lurking enemies — scouts — an 
alarm— a sallying forth— Indian dogs— return of a horse-stealing party— an 
Indian deputation— fresh alarms— return of a successful war party— dress of 
the Arickaras — Indian toilet — triumphal entry of the war party— meetings of 
relations and friends— Indian sensibility — meeting of a wounded warrior and 
his mother— festivities and lamentations 159 

CHAPTER XXH. 

Wilderness of the Far West— great American desert— parched seasons— Black 
Hills— Rocky Mountains— wandering and predatory hordes— speculations on 
what may be the future population — apprehended dangers — a plot to desert 
—Rose the interpreter— his sinister character— departure from the Arickara 
village 167 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Summer weather of the prairies— purity of the atmosphere — Canadians on the 
march— sickness in the camp— Big River— vulgar nomenclature — suggestiop> c 



CONTENTS. 11 

PAGE 

about the original Indian names— camp of Cheyennes— trade for horses- 
character of the Cheyennes— their horsemanship— historical anecdotes of the 
tribe 171 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

New distribution of horses— secret information of treason in the camp— Rose 
the interpreter— his perfidious character— his plots— anecdotes of the Crow In- 
dians—notorious horse-stealers— some account of Rose— a desperado of the 
frontier 175 



CHAPTER XXV. 

Substitute for fuel on the prairies— fossil trees— fierceness of the buffaloes when 
in heat— three hunters missing— signal fires and smokes— uneasiness concern- 
ing the lost men— a plan to forestall a rogue— new arrangement with Rose — 
return of the wanderers 178 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

The Black Mountains— haunts of predatory Indians— their wild and broken ap- 
pearance—superstition concerning them — thunder spirits singular noises in 
the mountains— secret mines— hidden treasures— mountains in labor— scientific 
explanation— impassable defiles — black-tailed deer — the bighorn or ahsahta-^ 
prospect from a lofty height — plain with herds of buffalo — distant peaks of 
the Rocky Mountains— alarms in the camp— tracks of grizzly bears— danger- 
ous nature of this animal— adventures of William Cannon and John Day with 
grizzly bears = = * * > « 182 



CHAPTER XXVn. 

Indian trail— rough mountain travelling— sufferings from hunger and thirst — 
Powder River— game in abundance — a hunter's paradise— mountain peak seen 
at a great distance— one of the Big Horn chain— Rocky Mountains— extent — 
appearance— height— the great American desert— various characteristics of 
the mountains— Indian superstitions concerning them— land of souls— towns 
of the free and generous spirits— happy hunting grounds 188 



CHAPTER XXVHI. 

Region of the Crow Indians— scouts on the lookouts-visit from a crew of hard 
riders— a Crow camp — presents to the Crow chief — bargaining — Crow bullies — 
Rose among his Indian friends — parting with the Crows — perplexities among 
the mountains— more of the Crows— equestrian children— search after strag- 
glers 19i 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

Mountain glens— wandering band of savages— anecdotes of Shoshonies and Flat- 
heads— root diggers— their solitary lurking habits— gnomes of the mountains- 
Wind River— scarcity of food— alteration of route — the Pilot Knobs or Tetons 
—branch of the Colorado— hunting camp Igg 



12 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

A plentiful hunting camp— Shoshonie hunters— Hoback's River— Mad Rivera- 
encampment near the Pilot Knobs— a consultation— preparations for a peril- 
ous voyage 202 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

A consultation whether to proceed by land or water— preparations for boat- 
building—an exploring party— a party of trappers detached— two Snake visi- 
tors—their report concerning the river— confirmed by the exploring party- 
Mad River abandoned— arrival at Henry's Fort— detachment of Robinson, Ho- 
back and Rezner to trap— Mr. Miller resolves to accompany them— their de- 
parture 204 

CHAPTER XXXH 

Scanty fare— a mendicant Snake— embarkation on Henry River— joy of the 
voyageurs— arrival at Snake River— rapids and breakers— beginning of mis- 
fortunes—Snake encampments— parley with a savage— a second disaster— loss 
of a boatman— the Caldron Linn 210 

CHAPTER XXXTTT. 

Gloomy council— exploring parties— discouraging reports— disastrous experi- 
ment—detachments in quest of succor — caches, how made— return of one of 
the detachments— unsuccessful— further disappointments— the Devil's Scuttle 
Hole 215 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Determination of the party to proceed on foot — dreary deserts between Snake 
River and the Columbia— distribution of effects preparatory to a march — 
division of the party— rugged march along the river— wild and broken scenery 
— Shoshonies — alarm of a Snake encampment — intercourse with the Snakes — 
horse-dealing— value of a tin kettle— sufferings from thirst— a horse reclaimed 
— fortitude of an Indian woman— scarcity of food— dog's flesh a dainty— news 
of Mr. Crooks and his party— painful travelling among the mountains— snow- 
storms— a dreary mountain prospect — a bivouac during a wintry night — re- 
turn to the river bank 220 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

An unexpected meeting— navigation in a skin canoe— strange fears of suffering 
men— hardships of Mr. Crooks and his comrades— tidings of M'Lellan— a retro- 
grade march— a willow raft— extreme suffering of some of the party— illness 
of Mr. Crooks— impatience of some of the men— necessity of leaving the lag- 
gards behind 228 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

Mr. Hunt overtakes the advanced party— Pierre Dorion, and his skeleton horse 
— a Shoshonie camp — a justifiable outrage— feasting on horse flesh — Mr. 
Crooks brought to the camp — undertakes to relieve his men — the skin ferry- 
boat—frenzy of Prevost — his melancholy fate— enfeebled state of John Day— 



CONTENTS. 13 

PAGE 

Mr. Crooks again left behind— the party emerge from among the mountains- 
interview with Shoshonies — a guide procured to conduct the party across a 
mountain— ferriage across Snake River — reunion with Mr. Crooks' s men — 
final departure from the river . 232 

CHAPTER XXXVn. 

Departure from the Snake River— mountains to the north— wayworn travellers 
—an increase of the Dorion family— a camp of Shoshonies— a New- Year festi- 
val among the Snakes— a wintry march through the mountains— a sunny 
prospect and milder climate— Indian horse-tracks— grassy valleys— a camp of 
Sciatogas— joy of the travellers— dangers of abundance— habits of the Scia- 
togas— fate of Carrier e— the Umatalla— arrival at the banks of the Columbia 
—tidings of the scattered members of the expedition— scenery on the Colum- 
bia—tidings of Astoria— arrival at the falls 237 

CHAPTER XXXVHI. 

The village of Wish-ram —roguery of the inhabitants— their habitations— tidings 
of Astoria— of the Tonquin massacre— thieves about the camp— a band of 
braggarts — embarkation — arrival at Astoria — a joyful reception — old comrades 
—adventures of Reed, M'Lellan, and M'Kenzie among the Snake River Moun- 
tains—rejoicing at Astoria 245 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

Scanty fare during the winter— a poor hunting ground— the return of the fishing 
season— the uthlecan or smelt — its qualities— vast shoals of it— sturgeon— In- 
dian modes of taking it— the salmon— different species— nature of the coun- 
try about the coast — forests and forest trees — a remarkable flowering vine — 
animals— birds— reptiles— climate west of the mountains— mildness of tem- 
perature—soil of the coast and the interior 251 

CHAPTER XL. 

Natives in the neighborhood of Astoria— their persons and characteristics- 
causes of deformity — their dress — their contempt of beards — ornaments — 
armor and weapons — mode of flattening the head — extent of the custom — 
religious belief — the two great spirits of the air and of the fire — priests or 
medicine men — the rival idols — polygamy a cause of greatness — petty wayf are 
— music, dancing, gambling — thieving a virtue — keen traders — intrusive habits 
— abhorrence of drunkenness — anecodote of Comeomly 255 

CHAPTER XLI. 

Spring arrangements at Astoria — various expeditions set out — the Long Nar- 
rows—pilfering Indians—thievish tribe at Wish-ram— portage at the falls- 
portage by moonlight— an attack, a rout, and a robbery— Indian cure for 
cowardice — a parley and compromise — the dispatch party turn back — meet 
Crooks and John Day— their sufferings— Indian perfidy— arrival at Astoria.. 26) 



CHAPTER XLII. 

Comprehensive views— to supply the Russian fur establishment— an agent sent 
to Russia— project of an annual ship— the Beaver fitted out— her equipment 



14 CONTENTS. 



PASS 

and crew— instructions to the captain— the Sandwich Islands— rumors of the 
fate of the Tonquin— precautions on reaching the mouth of the Columbia ... 269 

CHAPTER XLIII. 

Active operations at Astoria— various expeditions fitted out — Robert Stuart and 
a party destined for New York— singular conduct of John Day— his fate- 
piratical pass and hazardous portage— rattlesnakes— their abhorrence of 
tobacco — arrival among the Wallah-Wallahs — purchase of horses — departure 
of Stuart and his band for the mountains 272 

CHAPTER XLIV. 

Route of Mr. Stuart — dreary wilds— thirsty travelling— a grove and streamlet— 
the Blue Mountains— a fertile plain with rivulets— sulphur spring— route 
along Snake River— rumors of white men — the Snake and his horse — a Snake 
guide— a midnight decampment— unexpected meeting with old comrades- 
story of trappers' hardships— Salmon Falls— a great fishery— mode of spear- 
ing salmon— arrival at the Caldron Linn— state of the caches— new resolution 
of the three Kentucky trappers 278 

CHAPTER XLV. 

The Snake River deserts— scanty fare— bewildered travellers— prowling Indians 
—a giant Crow chief— a bully rebuked— Indian signals— smoke on the moun- 
tains—Mad River— an alarm— an Indian foray— a scamper— a rude Indian joke 
— a sharpshooter balked of his shot 288 

CHAPTER XLVI. 

Travellers unhorsed— pedestrian preparations— prying spies— bonfire of bag- 
gage—a march on foot — rafting a river — the wounded elk— Indian trails— wil- 
ful conduct of Mr. MLellan— grand prospect from a mountain— distant craters 
of volcanoes— Illness of Mr. Crooks 294 

CHAPTER XLVH. 

Ben Jones and a grizzly bear— rocky heights— mountain torrents— traces of 
M'Lellan— volcanic remains — mineral earths — peculiar clay for pottery — 
dismal plight of M'Lellan— starvation— shocking proposition of a desperate 
man— a broken-down bull— a ravenous meal— Indian graves— hospitable Snakes 
—a forlorn alliance 300 



CHAPTER XLVHI. 

Spanish River scenery— trial of Crow Indians — a snow-storm — a rousing fire 
and a buffalo feast — a plain of salt — climbing a mountain— volcanic summit 
—extinguished crater— marine shells — encampment on a prairie— successful 
hunting— good cheer— romantic scenery— rocky defile— foaming rapids— the 
fiery narrows 30? 



CHAPTER XLIX. 

Wintry storms— a halt and council — cantonment for the winter— fine hunting 
country— game of the mountains and plains— successful hunting— Mr. Crooks 



COIfTANtS. 



15 



PAGE 

and a grizzly bear — the wigwam — bighorn and blacktails— beef and venison — 
good quarters and good cheer— an alarm — an intrusion — unwelcome guests- 
desolation of the larder — gormandizing exploits of hungry savages — good 
quarters abandoned 312 



CHAPTER L. 

Rough wintry travelling— hills and plains— snow and ice— disappearance of 
game— a vast dreary plain — a second halt for the winter — another wigwam — 
New Year's feast— buffalo humps, tongues, and marrow bones— return of 
spring — launch of canoes — bad navigation — pedestrian march — vast prairies — 
deserted camps — Pawnee squaws — an Otto Indian — news of war — voyage 
down the Platte and the Missouri— reception at Fort Osage— arrival at St. 
Louis 318 



CHATTER LI. 

Agreement between Mr. Astor and the Russian Fur Company— war between the 
United States and Great Britain — instructions to Captain Sowle of the Beaver 
—fitting out of the Lark— news of the arrival of Mr. Stuart 324 

CHAPTER LH. 

Banks of the Wallah- Wallah— departure of David Stuart for the Oakinagan— 
Mr. Clarke's route up Lewis River — Chipunnish, or Pierced-nose Indians — 
their character, appearance, and habits — thievish habits — laying up of the 
boats — post at Pointed Heart and Spokan Rivers— M'Kenzie, his route up the 
Camoenum— bands of travelling Indians— expedition of Reed to the caches- 
adventures of wandering voyageurs and trappers 328 

CHAPTER LIH. 

Departure of Mr. Hunt in the Beaver — precautions at the factory — detachment 
to the Wallamut— gloomy apprehensions— arrival of M'Kenzie— affairs at 
Shahaptan— news of war— dismay of M'Dougal— determination to abandon 
Astoria— departure of M'Kenzie for the interior— adventure at the rapids- 
visit to the ruffians of Wish-ram— a perilous situation— meeting with M'Tavish 
and his party— arrival at the Shahaptan— plundered caches— determination 
of the wintering partners not to leave the country — arrival of Clarke among 
the Nez Perces — the affair of the silver goblet — hanging of an Indian — arrival 
of the wintering partners at Astoria 333 

CHAPTER LIV. 

The partners displeased with M'Dougal— equivocal conduct of that gentleman — 
partners agree to abandon Astoria — sale of goods to M'Tavish— arrangements 
for the year— manifesto signed by the partners —departure of M'Tavish for 
the interior 342 



CHAPTER LV. 

Anxieties of Mr. Astor — memorial of the North-west Company — tidings of a 
British naval expedition against Astoria — Mr. Astor applies to government 
for protection — the frigate Adams ordered to be fitted out — bright news from 
Astoria— sunshine suddenly overclouded 345 



16 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER LVI. 

PAGE 

Affairs of state at Astoria— M'Dougal proposes for the hand of an Indian Prin- 
cess—matrimonial embassy to Comcomly— matrimonial notions among the 
Chin ooks— settlements and pin-money— the bringing home of the bride— a 
managing father-in-law— arrival of Mr. Hunt at Astoria . . . 347 



CHAPTER LVH. 

Voyage of the Beaver to New Archangel— a Russian governor— royst^ e *uit* 
—the tyranny of the table— hard drinking bargains— voyage to Kamschatka— 
seal-catching establishment at St. Paul's— storms at sea— Mr. Hunt left at the 
Sandwich Islands— transactions of the Beaver at Canton— return of Mr. Hunt 
to Astoria 349 



CHAPTER LVin. 

Arrangements among the partners— Mr. Hunt sails in the Albatross—* c* av 
the Marquesas— news of the frigate Phoebe— Mr. Hunt proceeds to the Sand- 
wich Islands— voyage of the Lark— her shipwreck— transactions with the 
natives of the Sandwich Islands — conduct of Tamaahmaah 356 



CHAPTER LIX. 

Arrival of M'Tavish at Astoria— conduct of his followers— negotiations oi jhDou- 
gal and M'Tavish— bargain for the transfer of Astoria— doubts entertained of 
the loyalty of M'Dougal , 361 



CHAPTER LX. 

Arrival of a strange sail— agitation at Astoria— warlike offer of Comcomly— 
Astoria taken possession of by the British— indignation of Comcomly at the 
conduct of his son-in-law 365 



CHAPTER LXI. 

Arrival of the brig Pedler at Astoria— breaking up of the establishment — de- 
parture of several of the company — tragical story told by the squaw of Pierre 
Dorion— fate of Reed and his companions— attempts of Mr. Astor to renew 
his enterprise — disappointment— concluding observations and reflections 369 



APPENDIX. 



Draught of a petition to Congress, sent by Mr. Astor in 1812 377 

Letter from Mr. Gallatin to Mr. Astor 378 

Notices of the present state of the Fur Trade, chiefly extracted from an article 

published in Silliman's Journal for January, 1834 380 

Height of the Rocky Mountains : 383 

Suggestions with respect to the Indian tribes, and, the protection of our trad,e. . 384 



ASTORIA. 



CHAPTER I. 

Two leading objects of commercial gain have given birth to 
wide and daring enterprise in the early history of the Ameri- 
cas : the precious metals of the south, and the rich peltries of 
the north. While the fiery and magnificent Spaniard, in- 
flamed with the mania for gold, has extended his discoveries 
and conquests over those brilliant countries scorched by the 
ardent sun of the tropics, the adroit and buoyant Frenchman, 
and the cool and calculating Briton, have pursued the less 
splendid, but no less lucrative, traffic in furs amid the hyper- 
borean regions of the Canadas, until they have advanced even 
within the Arctic circle. 

These two pursuits have thus in a manner been the pioneers 
and precursors of civilization. Without pausing on the bor- 
ders, they have penetrated at once, in defiance of difficulties 
and clangers, to the heart of savage countries : laying open the 
hidden secrets of the wilderness; leading the way to remote 
regions of beauty and fertility that might have remained un- 
explored for ages, and beckoning after them the slow and 
pausing steps of agriculture and civilization. 

It was the fur trade, in fact, which gave early sustenance and 
vitality to the great Canadian provinces. Being destitute of 
the precious metals, at that time the leading objects of Ameri- 
can enterprise, they were long neglected by the parent country. 
The French adventurers, however, who had settled on the 
banks of the St. Lawrence, soon found that in the rich peltries 
of the interior, they had sources of wealth that might almost 
rival the mRes of Mexico and Peru. The Indians, as yet un- 
acquainted with the artificial value given to some descriptions 
of furs, in civilized life, brought quantities of the most precious 
kinds and bartered them away for European trinkets and 



18 ASTORIA. 

cheap commodities. Immense profits were thus made by the 
early traders, and the traffic was pursued with avidity. 

As the valuable furs soon became scarce in the neighborhood 
of the settlements, the Indians of the vicinity were stimulated 
to take a wider range in their hunting expeditions ; they were 
generally accompanied on these expeditions by some of the 
traders or their dependents, who shared in the toils and perils 
Df the chase, and at the same time made themselves acquainted 
with the best hunting and trapping grounds, and with the 
remote tribes, whom they encouraged to bring their peltries to 
the settlements. In this way the trade augmented, and was 
drawn from remote quarters to Montreal. Every now and 
then a large body of Ottawas, Hurons, and other tribes who 
hunted the countries bordering on the great lakes, would come 
down in a squadron of light canoes, laden with beaver skins, 
and other spoils of their year's hunting. The canoes would be 
unladen, taken on shore, and their contents disposed in order. 
A camp of birch bark would be pitched outside of the town, 
and a kind of primitive fair opened with that grave ceremonial 
so dear to the Indians. An audience would be demanded of 
the governor-general, who would hold the conference with be- 
coming state, seated in an elbow chair, with the Indians ranged 
in semicircles before him, seated on the ground, and silently 
smoking their pipes. Speeches would be made, presents ex- 
changed, and the audience would break up in universal good 
humor. 

Now would ensue a brisk traffic with the merchants, and all 
Montreal would be alive with naked Indians running from 
shop to shop, bargaining for arms, kettles, knives, axes, blank- 
ets, bright-colored cloths, and other articles of use or fancy; 
upon all which, says an old French writer, the merchants 
were sure to clear at least two hundred per cent. There was 
no money used in this traffic, and, after a time, all payment 
in spirituous liquors was prohibited, in consequence of the 
frantic and frightful excesses and bloody brawls which they 
were apt to occasion. 

Their wants and caprices being supplied, they would take 
leave of the governor, strike their tents, launch their canoes, 
and ply their way up the Ottawa to the lakes. 

A new and anomalous class of men gradually grew out of 
this trade. These were called coureurs des bois, rangers of the 
woods; originally men who had accompanied the Indians in 
their hunting expeditions, and made themselves acquainted 



ASTORIA. 19 

with remote tracks and tribes; and who now became, as it 
were, pedlers of the wilderness. These men wonld set out 
from Montreal with canoes w ell stocked with goods, with arms 
and ammunition, and would make their way up the mazy 
and wandering rivers that interlace the vast forests of the 
Canadas, coasting the most remote lakes, and creating new 
wants and habitudes among the natives. Sometimes they 
sojourned for months among them, assimilating to their tastes 
and habits with the happy facility of Frenchmen ; adopting in 
some degree the Indian dress, and not unfrequently taking to 
themselves Indian waives. 

Twelve, fifteen, eighteen months would often elapse without 
any tidings of them, when they would come sweeping their 
way down the Ottawa in full glee, their canoes laden down 
with packs of beaver skins. Now came their turn for revelry 
and extravagance. "You would be amazed," says an old 
writer already quoted, ' ' if you saw how lewd these pedlers are 
when they return ; how they feast and game, and how prodigal 
they are, not only in their clothes, but upon their sweethearts. 
Such of them as are married have the wisdom to retire to their 
own houses ; but the bachelors act just as an East India-man 
and pirates are wont to do ; for they lavish, eat, drink, and 
play all away as long as the goods hold out; and when these 
are gone, they even sell their embroidery, their lace, and their 
clothes. This done, they are forced upon a new voyage for 
subsistence."* 

Many of these coureurs des bois became so accustomed to 
the Indian mode of living, and the perfect freedom of the wil- 
derness, that they lost all relish for civilization, and identified 
themselves with the savages among whom they dwelt, or could 
only be distinguished from them by superior licentiousness. 
Their conduct and example gradually corrupted the natives, 
and impeded the works of the Catholic missionaries, who were 
at this time prosecuting their pious labors in the wilds of 
Canada. 

To check these abuses, and to protect the fur trade from 
various irregularities practised by these loose adventurers, an 
order was issued by the French Government prohibiting all 
persons, on pain of death, from trading into the interior of the 
country without a license. 

These licenses were granted in writing by the governor- 



* La Hontan, v. i. let. 4. 



20 ASTORIA. 

general, and at first were given only to persons of respecta- 
bility ; to gentlemen of broken fortunes ; to old officers of the 
army who had families to provide for; or to their widows. 
Each license permitted the fitting out of two large canoes with 
merchandise for the lakes, and no more than twenty-five 
licenses were to be issued in one year. By degrees, however, 
private licenses were also granted, and the number rapidly in- 
creased. Those who did not choose to fit out the expeditions 
themselves were permitted to sell them to the merchants: 
these employed the coureurs des bois, or rangers of the woods, 
to undertake the long voyages on shares, and thus the abuses 
of the old system were revived and continued.* 

The pious missionaries, employed by the Roman Catholic 
Church to convert the Indians, did every thing in their power 
to counteract the profligacy caused and propagated by these 
men in the heart of the wilderness. The Catholic chapel might 
often be seen planted beside the trading house, and its spire 
surmounted by a cross, towering from the midst of an Indian 
village, on the banks of a river or a lake. The missions had 
often a beneficial effect on the simple sons of the forest, but 
had little power over the renegades from civilization. 

At length it was found necessary to establish fortified posts 
at the confluence of the rivers and the lakes for the protection 
of the trade, and the restraint of these profligates of the wil- 
derness. The most important of these was at Michilimackinac, 
situated at the strait of the same name, which connects Lakes 
Huron and Michigan. It became the great interior mart and 
place of deposit, and some of the regular merchants who pros- 
ecuted the trade in person, under their licenses, formed estab- 
lishments here. This, too, was a rendezvous for the rangers 



* The following are the terms on which these expeditions were commonly under- 
taken. The merchant holding the license would fit out the two canoes with a 
thousand crowns' worth of goods, and put them under the conduct of six coureurs 
des bois, to whom the goods were charged at the rate of fifteen per cent, above the 
ready-money price in the colony. The coureurs des bois, in their turn, dealt so 
sharply with the savages, that they generally returned, at the end of a year or so, 
with four canoes well laden, so as to insure a clear profit of seven hundred per 
cent., insomuch that the thousand crowns invested produced eight thousand. Of 
this extravagant profit, the merchant had the lion's share. In the first place he 
would set aside six hundred crowns for the cost of his license, then a thousand 
crowns for the cost of the original merchandise. This would leave six thousand 
four hundred crowns, from which he would take forty per cent, for bottomry, 
amounting to two thousand five hundred and sixty crowns. The residue would be 
equally divided among the six good rangers, who would thus receive little more 
than six hundred crowns for all their toils and perils. 



ASTORIA. 21 

of the woods, as well those who came up with goods from 
Montreal as those who returned with peltries from the interior. 
Here new expeditions were fitted out, and took their departure 
for Lake Michigan and the Mississippi ; Lake Superior and the 
northwest ; and here the peltries brought in return were em- 
barked for Montreal. 

The French merchant at his trading post, in these primitive 
days of Canada, was a kind of commercial patriarch. With 
the lax habits and easy familiarity of his race, he had a little 
world of self-indulgence and misrule around him. He had his 
clerks, canoe-men, and retainers of all kinds, who lived with 
him on terms of perfect sociability, always calling him by his 
Christian name ; he had his harem of Indian beauties, and his 
troop of half-breed children; nor was there ever wanting a 
louting train of Indians, hanging about the establishment, 
eating and drinking at his expense in the intervals of their 
hunting expeditions. 

The Canadian traders, for a long time, had troublesome 
competitors in the British merchants of New York, who in- 
veigled the Indian hunters and the coureurs des bois to their 
posts, and traded with them on more favorable terms. A still 
more formidable opposition was organized in the Hudson Bay 
Company, chartered by Charles II., in 1670, with the exclusive 
privilege of establishing trading houses on the shores of that 
bay and its tributary rivers; a privilege which they have 
maintained to the present day. Between this British company 
and the French merchants of Canada, feuds and contests arose 
about alleged infringements of territorial limits, and acts of 
violence and bloodshed occurred between their agents. 

In 1762 the French lost possession of Canada, and the trade 
fell principally into the hands of British subjects. For a time, 
however, it shrunk within narrow limits. The old coureurs 
des bois were broken up and dispersed, or, where they could 
be met with, were slow to accustom themselves to the habits 
and manners of their British employers. They missed the 
freedom, indulgence, and familiarity of the old French trading 
houses, and did not relish the sober exactness, reserve, and 
method of the new-comers. The British traders, too, were 
ignorant of the country, and distrustful of the natives. They 
had reason to be so. The treacherous and bloody affairs of 
Detroit and Michilimackinac showed them the lurking hos- 
tility cherished by the savages, who had too long been taught 
by the French to regard them as enemies. 



22 ASTOBIA. 

It was not until the year 1766 that the trade regained its old 
channels; but it was then pursued with much avidity and 
emulation by individual merchants, and soon transcended its 
former bounds. Expeditions were fitted out by various per- 
sons from Montreal and Michilimackinac, and rivalships and 
jealousies of course ensued. The trade was injured by their 
artifices to outbid and undermine each other ; the Indians were 
debauched by the sale of spirituous liquors, which had been 
prohibited under the French rule. Scenes of drunkenness, 
brutality, and brawl were the consequence, in the Indian vil 
lages and around the trading houses ; while bloody feuds took 
place between rival trading parties when they happened to en- 
counter each other in the lawless depths of the wilderness. 

To put an end to these sordid and ruinous contentions, 
several of the principal merchants of Montreal entered into a 
partnership in the winter of 1783, which was augmented by 
amalgamation with a rival company in 1787. Thus was 
created the famous " Northwest Company," which for a time 
held a lordly sway over the wintry lakes and boundless forests 
of the Canadas, almost equal to that of the East India Com- 
pany over the voluptuous climes and magnificent realms of the 
Orient. 

The company consisted of twenty-three shareholders or 
partners, but held in its employ about two thousand persons 
as clerks, guides, interpreters, and " voyageurs," or boatmen. 
These were distributed at various trading posts, established 
far and wide on the interior lakes and rivers, at immense 
distances from each other, and in the heart of trackless coun- 
tries and savage tribes. 

Several of the partners resided in Montreal and Quebec, to 
manage the main concerns of the company. These were called 
agents, and were personages of great weight and importance ; 
the other partners took their stations at the interior posts, 
where they remained throughout the winter, to superintend 
the intercourse with the various tribes of Indians. They were 
thence called wintering partners. 

The goods destined for this wide and wandering traffic were 
put up at the warehouses of the company in Montreal, and con- 
veyed in batteaux, or boats and canoes, up the Eiver Attawa, 
or Ottawa, which falls into the St. Lawrence near Montreal, 
and by other rivers and portages to Lake Nipissing, Lake 
Huron, Lake Superior, and thence, by several chains of great 
and small lakes, to Lake Winnipeg, Lake Athabasca, and the 



ASTORIA. 23 

Great Slave Lake. This singular and beautiful system of 
internal seas, which renders an immense region of wilderness 
so accessible to the frail bark of the Indian or the trader, was 
studded by the remote posts of the company, where they 
carried on their traffic with the surrounding tribes. 

The company, as we have shown, was at first a spontaneous 
association of merchants; but after it had been regularly 
organized, admission into it became extremely difficult. A 
candidate had to enter, as it were, " before the mast," to un- 
dergo a long probation, and to rise slowly by his merits and 
services. He began at an early age as a clerk, and served an 
apprenticeship of seven years, for which he received one hun- 
dred pounds sterling, was maintained at the expense of the 
company, and furnished with suitable clothing and equip- 
ments. His probation was generally passed at the interior 
trading posts ; removed for years from civilized society, lead- 
ing a life almost as wild and precarious as the savages around 
him ; exposed to the severities of a northern winter, often 
suffering from a scarcity of food, and sometimes destitute for 
a long time of both bread and salt. When Ms apprenticeship 
had expired, he received a salary according to his deserts, 
varying from eighty to one hundred and sixty pounds sterling, 
and was now eligible to the great object of his ambition, a 
partnership in the company; though years might yet elapse 
before he attained to that enviable station. 

Most of the clerks were young men of good families, from 
the Highlands of Scotland, characterized by the perseverance, 
thrift, and fidelity of their country, and fitted by their native 
hardihood to encounter the rigorous climate of the north, and 
to endure the trials and privations of their lot ; though it must 
not be concealed that the constitutions of many of them be- 
came impaired by the hardships of the wilderness, and their 
stomachs injured by occasional famishing, and especially by 
the want of bread and salt. Now and then, at an interval of 
years, they were permitted to come down on a visit to the 
establishment at Montreal, to recruit their health, and to have 
a taste of civilized life ; and these were brilliant spots in their 
existence. 

As to the principal partners or agents, who resided in Mon- 
treal and Quebec, they formed a kind of commercial aristo- 
cracy, living in lordly and hospitable style. Their early asso- 
ciations when clerks at the remote trading posts, and the 
pleasures, dangers, adventures, and mishaps which they had 



24 ASTOMA. 

shared together in their wild wood life, had linked them 
heartily to each other, so that they formed a convivial fra- 
ternity. Few travellers that have visited Canada some thirty 
years since, in the days of the M'Tavishes, the M'Gillivrays, 
the M'Kenzies, the Frobishers, and the other magnates of the 
northwest, when the company was in all its glory, but must 
remember the round of feasting and revelry kept up among 
these hyperborean nabobs. 

Sometimes one or two partners, recently from the interior 
posts, would make their appearance in New York, in the course 
of a tour of pleasure and curiosity. On these occasions there 
was always a degree of magnificence of the purse about them, 
and a peculiar propensity to expenditure at the goldsmith's 
and jeweller's, for rings, chains, brooches, necklaces, jewelled 
watches, and other rich trinkets, partly for their own wear, 
partly for presents to their female acquaintances ; a gorgeous 
prodigality, such as was often to be noticed in former times in 
southern planters and West India Creoles, when flush with the 
profits of their plantations. 

To behold the Northwest Company in all its state and 
grandeur, however, it was necessary to witness an annual 
gathering at the great interior place of conference established 
at Fort William, near what is called the Grand Portage, on 
Lake Superior. Here two or three of the leading partners 
from Montreal proceeded once a year to meet the partners 
from the various trading posts of the wilderness, to discuss tho 
affairs of the company during the preceding year, and to 
arrange plans for the future. 

On these occasions might be seen the change since the un- 
ceremonious times of the old French traders; now the aris- 
tocratical character of the Briton shone forth magnificently, 
or rather the feudal spirit of the Highlander. Every partner 
who had charge of an interior post, and a score of retainers at 
his command, felt like the chieftain of a Highland clan, anci 
was almost as important in the eyes of his dependents as of 
himself. To him a visit to the grand conference at Fort 
William was a most important event; and he repaired there as 
to a meeting of parliament. 

The partners from Montreal, however, were the lords of the 
ascendant ; coming from the midst of luxurious and ostenta- 
tious life, they quite eclipsed their compeers from the woods, 
whose forms and faces had been battered and hardened by 
hard living and hard service, and whose garments and equip-- 



ASTORIA. 25 

merits were all the worse for wear. Indeed, the partners from 
below considered the whole dignity of the company as repre- 
sented in their persons, and conducted themselves in suitable 
style. They ascended the rivers in great state, like sovereigns 
making a progress : or rather like Highland chieftains navigat- 
ing their subject lakes. They were wrapped in rich furs, 
their huge canoes freighted with every convenience and 
luxury, and manned by Canadian voyageurs, as obedient as 
Highland clansmen. They carried up with them cooks and 
bakers, together with delicacies of every kind, and abundance 
of choice wines for the banquets which attended this great con- 
vocation. Happy were they, too, if they could meet with 
some distinguished stranger ; above all, some titled member of 
the British nobility, to accompany them on this stately occa- 
sion, and grace their high solemnities. 

Fort William, the scene of this important annual meeting, 
was a considerable village on the banks of Lake Superior. 
Here, in an immense wooden building, was the great council 
hall, as also the banqueting chamber, decorated with Indian 
arms and accoutrements, and the trophies of the fur trade. 
The house swarmed at this time with tr.aders and voyageurs, 
some from Montreal, bound to the interior posts; some from 
the interior posts, bound to Montreal. The councils were held 
in great state, for every member felt as if sitting in parliament, 
and every retainer and dependent looked up to the assemblage 
with awe, as to the house of lords. There was a vast deal of 
solemn deliberation, and hard Scottish reasoning, with an occa- 
sional swell of pompous declamation. 

These grave and weighty councils were alternated by huge 
feasts and revels, like some of the old feasts described in High- 
land castles. The tables in the great banq acting room 
groaned under the weight of game of all kinds; of venison 
from the woods, and fish from the lakes, with hunters' deli- 
cacies, such as buffaloes' tongues and beavers' tails ; and vari- 
ous luxuries from Montreal, all served up by experienced 
cooks brought for the purpose. There was no stint of gener- 
ous wine, for it was a hard-drinking period, a time of loyal 
toasts, and bacchanalian songs, and brimming bumpers. 

While the chiefs thus revelled in hall, and made the rafters 
resound with bursts of loyalty and old Scottish songs, chanted, 
in voices cracked and sharpened by the northern blast, their 
merriment was echoed and prolonged by a mongrel legion of 
retainers, Canadian voyageurs, half-breeds, Indian hunters, 



26 ASTORIA. 

and vagabond hangers-on, who feasted sumptuously without 
on the crumbs that fell from their table, and made the welkin 
ring with old French ditties, mingled with Indian yelps and 
yellings. 

Such was the Northwest Company in its powerful and pros- 
perous days, when it held a kind of feudal sway over a vast 
domain of lake and forest. We are dwelling too long, perhaps, 
upon these individual pictures, endeared to us by the associa- 
tions of early life, when, as yet a stripling youth, we have sat 
at the hospitable boards of the -' mighty Northwesters," the 
lords of the ascendant at Montreal, and gazed with wondering 
and inexperienced eye at the baronial wassailing, and listened 
with astonished ear to their "-ales of hardships and adventures. 
It is one object of our task, however, to present scenes of the 
rough life of the wilderness, and we are tempted to fix these 
few memorials of a transient state of things fast passing into 
oblivion ; for the feudal state of Fort William is at an end ; its 
council-chamber is silent and deserted; its banquet-hall no 
longer echoes to the burst of loyalty, or the "auld world" 
ditty ; the lords of the lakes and forests have passed away ; and 
the hospitable magnates of Montreal— where are they? 



CHAPTER II. 



The success of the Northwest Company stimulated further 
enterprise in this opening and apparently boundless field of 
profit. The traffic of that company lay principally in the high 
northern latitudes, while there were immense regions to the 
south and west, known to abound with valuable peltries ; but 
which, as yet, had been but little explored by the fur trader. 
A new association of British merchants was therefore formed, 
to prosecute the trade in this direction. The chief factory was 
established at the old emporium of Michilimackinac, from 
which place the association took its name, and was commonly 
called the Mackinaw Company. 

While the Northwesters continued to push their enterprises 
into the hyperborean regions from their stronghold at Fort 
William, and to hold almost sovereign sway over the tribes of 
the upper lakes and rivers, the Mackinaw Company sent forth 
their light perogues and barks, by Green Bay, Fox River 3 and 



ASTORIA. 27 

the Wisconsin, to that great artery of the west, the Mississippi • 
and down that stream to all its tributary rivers. In this way 
they hoped soon to monopolize the trade with ail the tribes on 
the southern and western waters, and of those vast tracts com- 
prised in ancient Louisiana. 

The government of the United States began to view with a 
wary eye the growing influence thus acquired by combinations 
of foreigners over the aboriginal tribes inhabiting its terri- 
tories, and endeavored to counteract it. For this purpose, as 
early as 1796 the government sent out agents to establish rival 
trading houses, on the frontier, so as to supply the wants of 
the Indians, to link their interests and feelings with those of 
the people of the United States, and to divert this important 
branch of trade into national channels. 

The expedient, however, was unsuccessful, as most commer- 
cial expedients are prone to be, where the dull patronage of 
government is counted upon to outvie the keen activity of pri- 
vate enterprise. What government failed to effect, however, 
with all its patronage and all its agents, was at length brought 
about by the enterprise and perseverance of a single merchant, 
one of its adopted citizens ; and this brings us to speak of the 
individual whose enterprise is the especial subject of the fol- 
lowing pages ; a man whose name and character are worthy of 
being enrolled in the history of commerce, as illustrating its 
noblest aims and soundest maxims. A few brief anecdotes of 
his early life, and of the circumstances which first determined 
him to the branch of commerce of which we are treating, can- 
not be but interesting. 

John Jacob Astor, the individual in question, was born in 
the honest little German village of Waldorf, near Heidelberg, 
on the banks of the Rhine. He was brought up in the simpli- 
city of rural life, but, while yet a mere stripling, left his home 
and launched himself amid the busy scenes of London, having 
had, from his very boyhood, a singular presentiment that he 
would ultimately arrive at great fortune. 

At the close of the American Revolution he was still in Lon- 
don, and scarce on the threshold of active life. An elder 
brother had been for some years resident in the United States, 
and Mr. Astor determined to follow him, and to seek his for- 
tunes in the rising country. Investing a small sum which he 
had amassed since leaving his native village, in merchandise 
suited to the American market, he embarked, in the month of 
November, 1783, in a ship bound to Baltimore, and arrived in 



28 ASTORIA. 

Hampton Roads in the month of January. The winter was 
extremely severe, and the ship, with many others, was de- 
tained by the ice in and about Chesapeake Bay for nearly three 
months. 

During this period the passengers of the various ships used 
occasionally to go on shore, and mingle sociably together. In 
this way Mr. Astor became acquainted with a countryman of 
his, a furrier by trade. Having had a previous impression that 
this might be a lucrative trade in the New World, he made 
many inquiries of his new acquaintance on the subject, who 
cheerfully gave him all the information in his power as to the 
quality and value of different furs, and the mode of carrying 
on the traffic. He subsequently accompanied him to New 
York, and, by his advice, Mr. Astor was induced to invest the 
proceeds of his merchandise in furs. With these he sailed 
from New York to London in 1784, disposed of them advant- 
ageously, made himself further acquainted with the course of 
the trade, and returned the same year to New York, with a 
view to settle in the United States. 

He now devoted himself to the branch of commerce with 
which he had thus casually been made acquainted. He began 
his career, of course, on the narrowest scale ; but he brought 
to the task a persevering industry, rigid economy, and strict 
integrity. To these were added an aspiring spirit that always 
looked upward ; a genius bold, fertile, and expansive ; a sagacity 
quick to grasp and convert every circumstance to its advan- 
tage, and a singular and never-wavering confidence of signal 
success.* 

As yet trade in peltries was not organized in the United 
States, and could not be said to form a regular line of business. 
Furs and skins were casually collected by the country traders 
in their dealings with the Indians or the white hunters, but the 
main supply was derived from Canada. As Mr. Astor's means 
increased he made annual visits to Montreal, where he pur- 
chased furs from the houses at that place engaged in the trade. 



* An instance of this buoyant confidence, which no doubt aided to produce the 
success it anticipated, we have from the lips of Mr. A. himself. While yet almost 
a stranger in the city, and in very narrow circumstances, he passed by where a row 
of houses had just been erected in Broadway, and which, from the superior style 
of their architecture, were the talk and boast of the city. "I'll build one day or . 
other, a greater house than any of these, in this very street," said he to himself. 
He has accomplished his prediction. 



ASTOBIA. 29 

These he shipped from Canada to London, no direct trade be- 
ing allowed from that colony to any but the mother country. 

In 1794 or '95, a treaty with Great Britain removed the re- 
strictions imposed upon the trade with the colonies, and opened 
a direct commercial intercourse between Canada and the 
United States. Mr. Astor was in London at the time, and im- 
mediately made a contract with the agents of the Northwest 
Company for furs. He was now enabled to import them from 
Montreal into the United States for the home supply, and to be 
shipped thence to different parts of Europe, as well as to China, 
which has ever been the best market for the richest and finest 
kinds of peltry. 

The treaty in question provided, likewise, that the military 
posts occupied by the British within the territorial limits of the 
United States should be surrendered. Accordingly, Oswego, 
Niagara, Detroit, Michilimackinac, and other posts on the 
American side of the lakes were given up. An opening was 
thus made for the American merchant to trade on the confines 
of Canada, and within the territories of the United States. 
After an interval of some years, about 1807, Mr. Astor em- 
barked in this trade on his own account. His capital and re- 
sources had by this time greatly augmented, and he had risen 
from small beginnings to take his place among the first mer- 
chants and financiers of the country. His genius had ever 
been in advance of his circumstances, prompting him to new 
and wide fields of enterprise beyond the scope of ordinary mer- 
chants. With all his enterprise and resources, however, he 
soon found the power and influence of the Michilimackinac (or 
Mackinaw) Company too great for him, having engrossed most 
of the trade within the American borders. 

A plan had to be devised to enable him to enter into success- 
ful competition. He was aware of the wish of the American 
government, already stated, that the fur trade within its bound- 
aries should be in the hands of American citizens, and of the 
ineffectual measures it had taken to accomplish that object. 
He now offered, if aided and protected by government, to turn 
the whole of that trade into American channels. He was in- 
vited to unfold his plans to government, and they were warmly 
approved, though the executive could give no direct aid. 

Thus countenanced, however, he obtained, in 1809, a charter 
from the Legislature of the State of New York, incorporating 
a company under the name of u The American Fur Company," 
with a capital of one million of dollars, with the privilege of in- 



30 ASTORIA. 

creasing it to two millions. The capital was furnished by him* 
>elf he, in fact, constituted the company; for, though he had 
a board of directors, they were merely nominal; the whole 
business was conducted on his plans, and with his resources, 
but he preferred to do so under the imposing and formidable 
aspect of a corporation, rather than in his individual name, 
and his policy was sagacious and effective. 

As the Mackinaw Company still continued its rivalry, and 
y as the fur trade would not advantageously admit of competi- 
tion, he made a new arrangement in 1811, by which, in con- 
junction with certain partners of the Northwest Company, and 
other persons engaged in the fur trade, he bought out the 
Mackinaw Company, and merged that and the American Fur 
Company into a new association, to be called "The Southwest 
Company. 1 ' This he likewise did with the privity and appro- 
bation of f he American government. 

By this arrangement Mr. Astor became proprietor of one 
half of the Indian establishments and goods which the Mack- 
inaw Company had within the territory of the Indian country 
in the United States, and it was understood that the whole was 
to be surrendered into his hands at the expiration of five years, 
on condition that the American Company would not trade 
within the British dominions. 

Unluckily, the war which broke out in 1812 between Great 
Britain and the United States suspended the association ; and 
after the war it was entirely dissolved ; Congress having passed 
a law prohibiting British fur traders from prosecuting theii 
enterprises within the territories of the United States. 



CHAPTER in. 



While the various companies W3 have noticed were pushing 
their enterprises far and wide in the wilds of Canada, and 
along the course of the great western waters, other adventu 
rers, intent on the same objects, were traversing the watery 
wastes of the Pacific and skirting the northwest coast of 
America. The last voyage of that renowned but unfortunate 
discoverer, Captain Cook, had made known the vast quanti- 
ties of the sea-otter to be found along that coast, and the im- 
mense prices to be obtained for its fur in China. It was as if 



ASTORIA. 31 

a new gold coast had been discovered. Individuals from 
various countries dashed into this lucrative traffic, so that in 
the year 1792 there were twenty-one vessels under different 
flags, plying along the coast and trading with the natives. 
The greater part of them were American, and owned by Bos- 
ton merchants. They generally remained on the coast and 
about the adjacent seas for two years, carrying on as wander- 
ing and adventurous a commerce on the water as did the 
traders and trappers on land. Their trade extended along the 
whole coast from California to the high northern latitudes. 
They would run in near shore, anchor, and wait for the natives 
to come off in their canoes with peltries. The trade exhausted 
at one place, they would up anchor and off to another. In this 
way they would consume the summer, and when autumn came 
on, would run down to the Sandwich Islands and winter in 
some friendly and plentiful harbor. In the following year 
they would resume their summer trade, commencing at Cali- 
fornia and proceeding north ; and, having in the course of the 
two seasons collected a sufficient cargo of peltries, would make 
the best of their way to China. Here they would sell their 
furs, take in teas, nankeens, and other merchandise, and re- 
turn to Boston, after an absence of two or three years. 

The people, however, who entered most extensively and ef- 
fectively in the fur trade of the Pacific, were the Eussians. 
Instead of making casual voyages, in transient ships, they 
established regular trading houses in the high latitudes, along 
the northwest coast of America, and upon the chain of the 
Aleutian Islands between Kamtschatka and the promontory of 
Alaska. 

To promote and protect these enterprises a company was in- 
corporated by the Russian government with exclusive privi- 
leges, and a capital of two hundred and. sixty thousand pounds 
sterling; and the sovereignty of that part of the American 
continent along the coast of which the posts had fceen estab- 
lished, was claimed by the Eussian crown, on the plea that the 
land had been discovered and occupied by its subjects. 

As China was the grand mart for the furs collected in these 
quarters, the Eussians had the advantage over their competi- 
tors in the trade. The latter had to take their peltries to 
Canton, which, however, was a mere receiving mart, from 
whence they had to be distributed over the interior of the 
empire and sent to the northern parts, where there was the 
chief consumption. The Eussians, on the contrary, carried 



32 ASTORIA. 

their furs, by a shorter voyage, directly to the northern parts 
of the Chinese empire ; thus being able to afford them in the 
market without the additional cost of internal transportation. 

We come now to the immediate field of operation of the 
great enterprise we have undertaken to illustrate. 

Among the American ships which traded along the north" 
west coast in 1792, was the Columbia, Captain Gray, of Boston 
In the course of her voyage she discovered the mouth of a 
large river in lat. 46° 19' aorth. Entering it with some diffi- 
culty, on account of sand-bars and breakers, she came to 
anchor in a spacious bay. A boat was well manned, and sent 
on shore to a village on the beach, but all the inhabitants fled 
excepting the aged and infirm. The kind manner in which 
these were treated, and the presents given to them, gradually 
lured back the others, and a friendly intercourse took place. 
They had never seen a ship or a white man. When they had 
first descried the Columbia, they had supposed it a floating 
island ; then some monster, of the deep ; but when they saw the 
boat putting for shore with human beings on board, they con- 
sidered them cannibals sent by the Great Spirit to ravage the 
country and devour the inhabitants. Captain Gray did not 
ascend the river farther than the bay in question, which con 
tinues to bear his name. After putting to sea he fell in with 
the celebrated discoverer, Vancouver, and informed him of his 
discovery, furnishing him with a chart which he had made of 
the river. Vancouver visited the river, and his lieutenant, 
Broughton, explored it by the aid of Captain Gray's chart ; as- 
cending it upward of one hundred miles, until within view of 
a snowy mountain, to'which he gave the name of 'Mount Hood, 
which it still retains. 

The existence of this river, however, was known long before 
the visits of Gray and Vancouver, but the information con- 
cerning it was vague and indefinite, being gathered from the 
reports of the Indians. It was spoken of by travellers as the 
Oregon, and as the great river of the west. A Spanish ship is 
said to have been wrecked at the mouth, several of the crew 
of which lived for some time among the natives. The Co- 
lumbia, however, is believed to be the first ship that made a 
regular discovery and anchored within its waters, and it has 
since generally borne the name of that vessel. 

As early as 1763, shortly after the acquisition of the Canadas 
by Great Britain, Captain Jonathan Carver, who had been in 
the British provincial army, projected a journey across the 



ASTORIA, 33 

continent between the forty-third and forty-sixth degrees of 
northern latitude, to the shores of the Pacific Ocean. His ob- 
jects were to ascertain the breadth of the continent at its 
broadest part, and to determine on some place on the shores of 
the Pacific where government might establish a post to facili- 
tate the discovery of a northwest passage, or a communication 
between Hudson's Bay and the Pacific Ocean. This place he 
presumed would be somewhere about the Straits of Annian, at 
which point he supposed the Oregon disembogued itself. It 
was his opinion also that a settlement on this extremity of 
America would disclose new sources of trade, promote many 
useful discoveries, and open a more direct communication with 
China and the English settlements in the East Indies, than that 
by the Cape of Good Hope or the Straits of Magellan.* This 
enterprising and intrepid traveller was twice baffled in indi- 
vidual efforts to accomplish his great journey. In 1774 he was 
joined in the scheme by Richard Whitworth, a member of 
Parliament, and a man of wealth. Their enterprise was pro- 
jected on a broad and bold plan. They were to take with them 
fifty or sixty men, artificers and mariners. With these they 
were to make their way up one of the branches of the Missouri, 
explore the mountains for the source of the Oregon, or river of 
the west, and sail down that river to its supposed exit near 
the Straits of Annian. Here they were to erect a fort, and 
build the vessels necessary to carry their discoveries by sea 
into efiect. Their plan had the sanction of the British govern- 
ment, and grants and other requisites were nearly completed 
when the breaking out of the American Revolution once more 
defeated the undertaking, t 

The expedition of Sir Alexander Mackenzie in 1793, across 
the continent to the Pacific Ocean, which he reached in lat. 52° 
20' 48", again suggested the possibility of linking together the 
trade of both sides of the continent. In lat. 52° 30' he had de- 
scended a river for some distance which flowed toward the 
south, and was called by the natives Tacoutche Tesse, and 
which he erroneously supposed to be the Columbia, It 
was afterward ascertained that it emptied itself in lat. 49°, 
whereas the mouth of the Columbia is about three degrees far- 
ther south. 

When Mackenzie some years subsequently published an ac- 



* Carver's Travels, Introd. b. iii. Philad. 1796. 
t Ibid. p. 360. Philad. 1796. 



34 ASTORIA. 

count of his expeditions, he suggested the policy of opening 
an intercourse between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, and 
forming regular establishments through the interior and at 
both extremes, as well as along the coasts and islands. By 
this means, he observed,, the entire command of the fur trade 
of North America might be obtained from lat. 48° north to the 
pole, excepting that portion held by the Russians, for as to the 
American adventurers who had hitherto enjoyed the traffic 
along the northwest coast, they would instantly disappear, he 
added, before a well regulated trade. 

A scheme of this kind, however, was too vast and hazardous 
for individual enterprise ; it could only be undertaken by a 
company under the sanction and protection of a government ; 
and as there might be a clashing of claims between the Hud- 
son's Bay and Northwest Company, the one holding by right 
of charter, the other by right of possession, he proposed that 
the two companies should coalesce in this great undertaking. 
The long-cherished jealousies of these two companies, however, 
were too deep and strong to allow them to listen to such 
counsel. 

In the mean time the attention of the American government 
was attracted to the subject, and the memorable expedition 
under Messrs. Lewis and Clarke fitted out. These gentlemen, 
in 1804, accomplished the enterprise which had been projected 
by Carver and Whitworth in 1774. They ascended the Mis- 
souri, passed through the stupendous gates of the Rocky Moun- 
tains, hitherto unknown to white men ; discovered and explored 
the upper waters of the Columbia, and followed that river 
down to its mouth, where their countryman, Gray, had an- 
chored about twelve years previously. Here they passed the 
winter, and returned across the mountains in the following 
spring. The reports published by them of their expedition 
demonstrated the practicability of establishing a line of com- 
munication across the continent, from the Atlantic to the 
Pacific Ocean. 

It was then that the idea presented itself to the mind of Mr= 
Astor, of grasping with his individual hand this great enter- 
prise, which for years had been dubiously yet desirously con- 
templated by powerful associations and maternal governments 
For some time he revolved the idea in his mind, gradually ex- 
tending and maturing his plans as his means of executing them 
augmented. The main feature of his scheme was to establish 
a line of trading posts along the Missouri and the Columbia, to 



ASTORIA. 35 

the mouth of the latter, where was to be founded the chief 
trading house or mart. Inferior posts would be established in 
the interior, and on all the tributary streams of the Columbia, 
to trade with the Indians ; these posts would draw their sup^ 
plies from the main establishment, and bring to it the peltries 
they collected. Coasting craft would be built and fitted out, 
also at the mouth of the Columbia, to trade, at favorable sea- 
sons, all along the northwest coast, and return, with the pro- 
ceeds of their voyages, to this place of deposit. Thus all the 
Indian trade, both of the interior and the coast, would converge 
to this point, and thence derive its sustenance. 

A ship was to be sent annually from New York to this main 
establishment with reinforcements and supplies, and with 
merchandise suited to the trade. It would take on board the 
furs collected during the preceding year, carry them to Canton, 
invest the proceeds in the rich merchandise of China, and re- 
turn thus freighted to New York. 

As, in extending the American trade along the coast to the 
northward, it might be brought into the vicinity of the Russian 
Fur Company, and produce a hostile rivalry, it was part of the 
plan of Mr. Astor to conciliate the good- will of that company by 
the most amicable and beneficial arrangements. The Eussian 
establishment was chiefly dependent for its supplies upon tran- 
sient trading vessels from the United States. These vessels, 
however, were often of more harm than advantage. Being 
owned by private adventurers or casual voyagers, who cared 
only for present profit, and had no interest in the permanent 
prosperity of the trade, they were reckless in their dealings 
with the natives, and made no scruple of supplying them with 
firearms. In this way several fierce tribes in the vicinity of 
the Russian posts, or within the range of their trading excur- 
sions, were furnished with deadly means of warfare, and ren- 
dered troublesome and dangerous neighbors. 

The Russian government had made representations to that of 
the United States of these malpractices on the part of its citi- 
zens, and urged to have this traffic in arms prohibited ; but, as 
it did not infringe any municipal law, our government could 
not interfere. Yet still it regarded, with solicitude, a traffic 
which, if persisted in, might give offence to Russia, at that time 
almost the only power friendly to us. In this dilemma, the 
government had applied to Mr. Astor, as one conversant hi this 
branch of trade, for information that might point out a way to 
remedy the evil. This circumstance had suggested to him the 



36 ASTORIA. 

idea of supplying the Kussian establishment regularly by 
means of the annual ship that should visit the settlement at the 
mouth of the Columbia (or Oregon) ; by this means the casual 
trading vessels would be excluded from those parts of the 
coast where their malpractices were so injurious to the Eus- 
sians. 

Such is a brief outline of the enterprise projected by Mr, 
Astor, but which continually expanded in his mind. Indeed it 
is due to him to say that he was not actuated by mere motives 
of individual profit. He was already wealthy beyond the 
ordinary desires of man, but he now aspired to that honorable 
fame which is awarded to men of similar scope of mind, who 
by their great commercial enterprises have enriched nations, 
peopled wildernesses, and extended the bounds of empire. He 
considered his projected establishment at the mouth of the 
Columbia as the emporium to an immense commerce ; as a col- 
ony that would form the germ of a wide civilization; that 
would, in fact, carry the American population across the 
Eocky Mountains and spread it along the shores of the Pacific, 
as it already animated the shores of the Atlantic. 

As Mr. Astor, by the magnitude of his commercial and 
financial relations, and the vigor and scope of his self-taught 
mind, had elevated himself into the consideration of govern- 
ment and the communion and correspondence with leading 
statesmen, he, at an early period, communicated his schemes 
to President Jefferson, soliciting the countenance of govern- 
ment. How highly they were esteemed by that eminent man, 
we may judge by the following passage, written by him some 
time afterward to Mr. Astor. 

" I remember well having invited your proposition on this 
subject,* and encouraged it with the assurance of every 
facility and protection which the government could properly 
afford. I considered, as a great public acquisition, the com- 
mencement of a settlement on that point of the western coast 
of America, and looked forward with gratification to the time 
when its descendants should have spread themselves through 
the whole length of that coast, covering it with free and 
independent Americans, unconnected with us but by the ties 

* On this point Mr. Jefferson's memory was in error. The proposition alluded to 
was the one, already mentioned, for the establishment of an American Fur Com- 
pany in the Atlantic States. The great enterprise beyond the mountains, that was 
to sweep the shores of the Pacific, originated in the mind of Mr. Astor, and was 
proposed by him to the government. 



ASTORIA. 37 

of blood and interest, and enjoying like us the rights of self- 
government. " 

The cabinet joined with Jefferson in warm approbation of 
the plan, and held out assurance of every protection that 
could, consistently with general policy, be afforded. 

Mr. Astor now prepared to carry his scheme into prompt 
execution. He had some competition, however, to apprehend 
and guard against. The Northwest Company, acting feebly 
and partially upon the suggestions of its former agent, Sir 
Alexander Mackenzie, had pushed one or two advanced trad- 
ing posts across the Rocky Mountains, into a tract of country 
visited by that enterprising traveller, and since named New 
Caledonia. This tract lay about two degrees north, of the 
Columbia, and intervened between the territories of the 
United States and those of Russia. Its length was about 
five hundred and fifty miles, and its breadth, from the moun- 
tains to the Pacific, from three hundred to three hundred and 
fifty geographical miles. 

Should the Northwest Company persist in extending their 
kade in that quarter, their competition might be of serious 
detriment to the plans of Mr. Astor. It is true they would 
contend with him to a vast disadvantage, from the checks 
and restrictions to which they were subjected. They were 
straitened on one side by the rivalry of the Hudson's Bay 
Company ; then they had no good post on the Pacific where 
they could receive supplies by sea for their establishments 
beyond the mountains ; nor, if they had one, could they ship 
their furs thence to China, that great mart for peltries; the 
Chinese trade being comprised in the monopoly of the East 
India Company. Their posts beyond the mountains had. to be 
supplied in yearly expeditions, like caravans, from Montreal, 
and the furs conveyed back in the same way, by long, pre' 
carious, and expensive routes, across the continent. Mr. 
Astor, on the contrary, would be able to supply his pro- 
posed establishment at the mouth of the Columbia by sea, 
and to ship the furs collected there directly to China, so as 
to undersell the Northwest Company in the great Chinese 
market. 

Still, the competition of two rival companies west of the 
Rocky Mountains could not but prove detrimental to both, 
and fraught with those evils, both to the trade and to the 
Indians, that had attended similar rivalries in the Canadas. 
To prevent any contest of the kind, therefore, he made known 



38 ASTORIA. 

his plan to the agents of the Northwest Company, and pra 
posed to interest them, to the extent of one third, in the trade 
thus to be opened. Some correspondence and negotiation 
ensued. The company were aware of the advantages which 
would be possessed by Mr. Astor should he be able to carry his 
scheme into effect; but they anticipated a monopoly of the 
trade beyond the mountains by their establishments in New 
Caledonia, and were loath to share it with an individual who 
had already proved a formidable competitor in the Atlantic 
trade. They hoped, too, by a timely move, to secure the 
mouth of the Columbia before Mr. Astor would be able to 
put his plans into operation; and, that key to the internal 
trade once in their possession, the whole country would be 
at their command. After some negotiation and delay, there- 
fore, they declined the proposition that had been made to 
them, but subsequently dispatched a party for the mouth of 
the Columbia, to establish a post there before any expedition 
sent out by Mr. Astor might arrive. 

In the mean time Mr. Astor finding Ins overtures rejected, 
proceeded fearlessly to execute his enterprise in face of the 
whole power of the Northwest Company. His main establish- 
ment once planted at the mouth of the Columbia, he looked 
with confidence to ultimate success. Being able to reinforce 
and supply it amply by sea, he would push his interior posts 
in every direction up the rivers and along the coast ; supply- 
ing the natives at a lower rate, and thus gradually obliging 
the Northwest Company to give up the competition, relinquish 
New Caledonia, and retire to the other side of the mountains. 
He would then have possession of the trade, not merely of the 
Columbia and its tributaries, but of the regions farther north, 
quite to the Eussian possessions. Such was a part of his bril- 
liant and comprehensive plan. 

He now proceeded, with all diligence, to procure proper 
agents and coadjutors, habituated to the Indian trade and to 
the lif e of the wilderness. Among the clerks of the Northwest 
Company were several of great capacity and experience, who 
had served out their probationary terms, but who, either 
through lack of interest and influence, or a want of vacancies, 
had not been promoted. They were consequently much dis- 
satisfied, and ready for any employment in which their talents 
and acquirements might be turned to better account. 

Mr. Astor made his overtures to several of these persons, 
and three of them entered into his views. One of these, Mr. 



ASTORIA, 39 

Alexander M'Kay, had accompanied Sir Alexander Mackenzie 
in both of his expeditions to the northwest coast of America in 
1789 and 1793. The other two w^ere Duncan M'Dougal and 
Donald M'Kenzie. To these were subsequently added Mr. 
Wilson Price Hunt, of New Jersey. As this gentleman was 
a native born citizen of the United States, a person of great 
probity and worth, he was selected by Mr. Astor to be his chief 
agent, and to represent him in the contemplated establishment. 

On the 23d of June, 1810, articles of agreement w^ere entered 
into between Mr. Astor and those four gentlemen, acting for 
themselves and for the several persons who had already agreed 
to become, or should thereafter become associated under the 
firm of " The Pacific Fur Company." 

According to these articles Mr. Astor was t( be at the head 
of the company, and to manage its affairs in New York. He 
was to furnish vessels, goods, provisions, arms, ammunition, 
and all other requisites for the enterprise at first cost and 
charges, provided that they did not, at any time, involve an 
advance of more than four hundred thousand dollars. 

The stock of the company was to be divided into a hundred 
equal shares, with the profits accruing thereon. Fifty shares 
were to be at the disposition of Mr. Astor, and the other fifty 
to be divided among the partners and their associates. 

Mr. Astor was to have the privilege of introducing other per- 
sons into the connection as partners, two of whom, at least, 
should be conversant with the Indian trade, and none of them 
entitled to more than three shares. 

A general meeting of the company was to be held annually 
at Columbia Biver, for the investigation and regulation of its 
affairs; at which absent members might be represented, and 
might vote by proxy under certain specified conditions. 

The association, if successful, was to continue for twenty 
years ; but the parties had full power to abandon and dissolve 
it within the first five years, should it be found unprofitable. 
For this term Mr. Astor covenanted to bear all the loss that 
might be incurred; after which it was to be borne by ill the 
partners, in proportion to their respective shares. 

The parties of the second part were to execute faithfully such 
duties as might be assigned to them by a majority of the com- 
pany on the northwest coast, and to repair to such place or 
places as the majority might direct. 

An agent, appointed for the term of five years, was to reside 
at the principal establishment on the northwest coast, and 



40 ASTORIA. 

Wilson Price Hunt was the one chosen for the first term. 
Should the interests of the concern at any time require his ab- 
sence, a person was to be appointed, in general meeting, to 
take his place. 

Such were the leading conditions of this association; we 
shall now proceed to relate the various hardy and eventful 
expeditions, by sea and land, to which it gave rise. 



CHAPTER IV. 



In prosecuting his great scheme of commerce and coloniza- 
tion, two expeditions were devised by Mr. Astor, one by sea, 
the other by land. The former was to carry out the people, 
stores, ammunition, and merchandise requisite for establishing 
a fortified trading post at the mouth of Columbia River. The 
latter, conducted by Mr. Hunt, was to proceed up the Missouri, 
and across the Rocky Mountains, to the same point ; exploring 
a line of communication across the continent, and noting the 
places where interior trading posts might be established. The 
expedition by sea is the one which comes first under considera- 
tion. 

A fine ship was provided, called the Tonquin, of two hundred 
and ninety tons burden, mounting ten guns, with a crew of 
twenty men. She carried an assortment of merchandise for 
trading with the natives of the seaboard and of the interior, 
together with the frame of a schooner, to be employed in the 
coasting trade. Seeds also were provided for the cultivation 
of the soil, and nothing wai, neglected for the necessary supply 
of the establishment. The command of the ship was intrusted 
to Jonathan Thorn, of New York, a lieutenant in the United 
States Navy, on leave of absence. He was a man of courage 
and firmness who had distinguished himself in our Tripolitan 
war, and, from being accustomed to naval discipline, was con- 
sidered by Mr. Astor as well fitted to take charge of an expe- 
dition of the kind. Four of the partners were to embark in 
the ship, namely, Messrs. M'Kay, M'Dougal, David Stuart, and 
his nephew, Robert Stuart. Mr. M'Dougal was empowered by 
Mr. Astor to act as his proxy, in the absence of Mr. Hunt, to 
vote for him and in his name, on any question that might 
come before any meeting of the persons interested in the voy- 
age. 



ASTORIA. 41 

Besides the partners, there were twelve clerks to go out in 
the ship, several of them natives of Canada, who had some 
experience in Indian trade. They were bound to the service 
of the company for five years, at the rate of one hundred dol- 
lars a year, payable at the expiration of the term, and an an- 
nual equipment of clothing to the amount of forty dollars. In 
case of ill conduct, they were liable to forfeit their wages and 
be dismissed; but, should they acquit themselves well, the 
confident expectation was held out to them of promotion, and 
partnership. Their interests were thus, to some extent, iden- 
tified with those of the company. 

Several artisans were likewise to sail in the ship, for the 
supply of the colony ; but the most peculiar and characteristic 
part of this motley embarkation consisted of thirteen Canadian 
u voyageurs," who had enlisted for five years. As this class 
of functionaries will continually recur in the course of the fol- 
lowing narrations, and as they form one of those distinct and 
strongly marked castes or orders of people springing up in this 
vast continent out of geographical circumstances, or the varied 
pursuits, habitudes, and origins of its population, we shall 
sketch a few of their characteristics for the information of the 
reader. 

The *' voyageurs" form a kind of confraternity in the Cana- 
das, like the arrieros, or carriers of Spain, and, like them, are 
employed in long internal expeditions of travel and traffic: 
with this difference, that the arrieros travel by land, the voy- 
ageurs by water ; the former with mules and horses, the latter 
with batteaux and canoes. The voyageurs may be said to have 
sprung up out of the fur trade, having originally been employed 
by the early French merchants in their trading expeditions 
through the labyrinth of rivers and lakes of the boundless in- 
terior. They were coeval with the coureurs des bois, or ran- 
gers of the woods, already noticed, and, like them, in the in- 
tervals of their long, arduous, and laborious expeditions, were 
prone to pass their time in idleness and revelry about the trad- 
ing posts or settlements, squandering their hard earnings in 
heedless conviviality, and rivalling their neighbors, the Indians, 
in indolent indulgence and an imprudent disregard of the mor- 
row. 

When Canada passed under British domination, and the old 
French trading houses were broken up, the voyageurs, like the 
coureurs des bois, were for a time disheartened and disconso- 
late, and with difficulty could reconcile themselves to the ser- 



42 ASTORIA. 

vice of the new-comers, so different in habits, manners, and 
language from their former employers. By degrees, however, 
they became accustomed to the change, and at length came to 
consider the British fur traders, and especially the members of 
the Northwest Company, as the legitimate lords of creation. 

The dress of these people is generally half civilized, half 
savage. They wear a capot or surcoat, made of a blanket, a 
striped cotton shirt, cloth trowsers, or leathern leggins, moc- 
casons of deerskin, and a belt of variegated worsted, from 
which are suspended the knife, tobacco-pouch, and other im- 
plements. Their language is of the same piebald character, 
being a French patois, embroidered with Indian and English 
words and phrases. 

The lives of the voyageurs are passed in wild and extensive 
rovings, in the service of individuals, but more especially of 
the fur traders. They are generally of French descent, and 
inherit much of the gayety and lightness of heart of their an- 
cestors, being full of anecdote and song, and ever ready for 
the dance. They inherit, too, a fund of civility and com- 
plaisance ; and instead of that hardness and grossness which 
men in laborious life are apt to indulge toward each other, 
they are mutually obliging and accommodating ; interchanging 
kind offices, yielding each other assistance and comfort in 
every emergency, and using the familiar appellations of 
" cousin" and "brother" when there is in fact no relationship. 
Their natural good-will is probably heightened by a com- 
munity of adventure and hardship in their precarious and 
wandering life. 

No men are more submissive to their leaders and employers, 
more capable of enduring hardship, or more good-humored 
under privations. Never are they so happy as when on long 
and rough expeditions, toiling up rivers or coasting lakes; 
encamping at night on the borders, gossiping round their fires, 
and bivouacking in the open air. They are dexterous boat- 
men, vigorous and adroit with the oar and. paddle, and will 
row from morning until night without a murmur. The steers- 
man often sings an old traditionary French song, with some 
regular burden in which they all join, keeping time with their 
oars ; if at any time they flag in spirits or relax in exertion, it 
is but necessary to strike up a song of the kind to put them all 
in fresh spirits and activity. The Canadian waters are vocal 
with these little French chansons, that have been echoed from 
mouth to mouth and transmitted from father to son, from the 



ASTORIA. 43 

earliest days of the colony ; and it has a pleasing effect, in a 
still golden summer evening, to see a batteau gliding across 
the bosom of a lake and dipping its oars to the cadence of 
these quaint old ditties, or sweeping along in full chorus, on a 
bright sunny morning, down the transparent current of one of 
the Canada rivers. 

But we are talking of things that are fast fading away ! The 
march of mechanical invention is driving every thing poetical 
before it. The steamboats, which are fast dispelling the wild- 
ness and romance of our lakes and rivers, and aiding to sub- 
due the world into commonplace, are proving as fatal to the 
race of the Canadian voyageurs as they have been to that of 
the boatmen of the Mississippi. Their glory is departed. They 
are no longer the lords of our internal seas and the great navi- 
gators of the wilderness. Some of them may still occasionally 
be seen coasting the lower lakes with their frail barks, and 
pitching their camps and lighting their fires upon the shores ; 
but their range is fast contracting to those remote waters and 
shallow and obstructed rivers un visited by the steamboat. In 
the course of years they will gradually disappear; their songs 
will die away like the echoes they once awakened, and the 
Canadian voyageurs will become a forgotten race, or remem- 
bered, like their associates, the Indians, among the poetical 
images of past times, and as themes for local and romantic 
associations. 

An instance of the buoyant temperament and the profes- 
sional pride of these people was furnished in the gay and brag- 
gart style in which they arrived at New York to join the 
enterprise. They were determined to regale and astonish the 
people of the "States" with the sight of a Canadian boat and a 
Canadian crew. They accordingly fitted up a large but light 
bark canoe, such as is used in the fur trade ; transported it in 
a wagon from the banks of the St. Lawrence to the shores of 
Lake Champlain; traversed the lake in it, from end to end; 
hoisted it again in a wagon and wheeled it off to Lansingburgh, 
and there launched it upon the waters of the Hudson. Down 
this river they plied their course merrily on a still summer's 
day, making its banks resound for the first time with their old 
French boat songs; passing by the villages with whoop and 
halloo, so as to make the honest Dutch farmers mistake them 
for a crew of savages. In this way they swept, in full song, 
and with regular flourish of the paddle, round New York, in a 
still summer evening, to the wonder and admiration of its in- 



A 



44 ASTORIA. 

habitants, who had never before witnessed on their waters a 
nautical apparition of the kind. 

Such was the variegated band of adventurers about to em- 
bark in the Tonquin on this arduous and doubtful enterprise. 
While yet in port and on dry land, in the bustle of preparation 
and the excitement of novelty, all was sunshine and promise. 
The Canadians, especially, who, with their constitutional 
vivacity, have a considerable dash of the gascon, were buoyant 
and boastful, and great braggarts as to the future ; while all 
those who had been in the service of the Northwest Company, 
and engaged in the Indian trade, plumed themselves upon 
their hardihood and their capacity to endure privations. If 
Mr. Astor ventured to hint at the difficulties they might have 
to encounter, they treated them with scorn. They were 
" northwesters;" men seasoned to hardships, who cared for 
neither wind nor weather. They could live hard, lie hard, 
sleep hard, eat dogs !— in a word they were ready to do and 
suffer any thing for the good of the enterprise. With all 
this profession of zeal and devotion, Mr. Astor was not over- 
confident of the stability and firm faith of these mercurial 
beings. He had received information, also, that an armed 
brig from Halifax, probably at the instigation of the North- 
west Company, was hovering on the coast, watching for the 
Tonquin, with the purpose of impressing the Canadians on 
board of her, as British subjects, and thus interrupting the 
voyage. It was a time of doubt and anxiety, when the re- 
lations between the United States and Great Britain were 
daily assuming a more precarious aspect and verging toward 
that war which shortly ensued. As a precautionary measure, 
therefore, he required that the voyageurs, as they were about 
to enter into the service of an American association, and to 
reside within the limits of the Unite States, should take the 
oaths of naturalization as American citizens. To this they 
readily agreed, and shortly afterward assured him that they 
had actually done so. It was not until after they had sailed 
that he discovered that they had entirely deceived him in tho 
matter. 

The confidence of Mr. Astor was abused in another quarter. 
Two of the partners, both of them Scotchmen, and recently in 
the service of the Northwest Company, had misgivings as to 
an enterprise which might clash with the interests and estab- 
lishments protected by the British flag. They privately waited 
upon the British minister, Mr. Jackson, then in New York, 



ASTORIA. 45 

laid open to hini the whole scheme of Mr, Astor, though in- 
trusted to them in confidence, and dependent, in a great meas- 
ure, upon secrecy at the" outset for its success, and inquired 
whether they, as British subjects, could lawfully engage in it. 
The reply satisfied their scruples, while the information they 
imparted excited the surprise and admiration of Mr. Jackson, 
that a private individual should have conceived and set on foot 
at his own risk and expense so great an enterprise. 

This step on the part of those gentlemen was not known to 
Mr. Astor until some time afterward, or it might have modified 
the trust and confidence reposed in them. 

To guard against any interruption to the voyage by the 
armed brig, said to be off the harbor, Mr. Astor applied to 
Commodore Rodgers, at that time commanding at New York, 
to give the Tonquin safe convoy off the coast. The commodore 
having received from a high official source assurance of the 
deep interest which the government took in the enterprise, 
sent directions to Captain Hull, at that time cruising off the 
harbor in the frigate Constitution, to afford the Tonquin the 
required protection when she should put to sea. 

Before the day of embarkation, Mr. Astor addressed a letter 
of instruction to the four partners who were to sail in the ship. 
In this he enjoined them, in the most earnest manner, to cul- 
tivate harmony and unanimity, and recommended that all 
differences of opinions on points connected with the objects 
and interests of the voyage should be discussed by the whole, 
and decided by a majority of votes. He, moreover, gave them 
especial caution as to their conduct on arriving at their des- 
tined port ; exhorting them to be careful to make a favorable 
impression upon the wild people among whom their lot and 
the fortunes of the enterprise would be cast. "If you find 
them kind," said he, "as I hope you will, be so to them. If 
otherwise, act with caution and forbearance, and convince 
them that you come as friends." 

With the same anxious forethought he wrote a letter of in- 
struction to Captain Thorn, in which he urged the strictest 
attention to the health of himself and his crew, and to the pro- 
motion of good-humor and harmony on board his ship. "To 
prevent any misunderstanding," added he, "will require your 
particular good management." His letter closed with an in- 
junction of wariness in his intercourse with the natives, a sub- 
ject on which Mr. Astor was justly sensible he could not be too 
earnest. "I must recommend you," said he, "to be particu- 



46 ASTORIA. 

larly careful on the coast, and not to rely too much on the 
friendly disposition of the natives. All accidents which have 
as yet happened there arose from too much confidence in the 
Indians." 

The reader will bear these instructions in mind, as events 
will prove their wisdom and importance, and the disasters 
which ensued in consequence of the neglect of them. 



CHAPTER V. 



On the eighth of September, 1810, the Tonquin put to sea, 
where she was soon joined by the frigate Constitution. The 
wind was fresh and fair from the southwest, and the ship was 
soon out of sight of land and free from the apprehended dan- 
ger of interruption. The frigate, therefore, gave her ' - God 
speed," and left her to her course. 

The harmony so earnestly enjoined by Mr. Astor on this 
heterogeneous crew, and which had been so confidently prom- 
ised in the buoyant moments of preparation, was doomed to 
meet with a check at the very outset. 

Captain Thorn was an honest, straightforward, but some- 
what dry and dictatorial commander, who, having been nur- 
tured in the system and discipline of a ship of war, and in a 
sacred opinion of the supremacy of the quarter-deck, was dis 
posed to be absolute lord and master on board of his ship. He 
appears, moreover, to have had no great opinion, from the 
first, of the persons embarked with him. He had stood by 
with surly contempt while they vaunted so bravely to Mr. 
Astor of all they could do and all they could undergo ; how 
they could face all weathers, put up with all kinds of fare, and 
even eat dogs with a relish, when no better food was to be had. 
He had set them down as a set of landlubbers and bragga 
docios, and was disposed to treat them accordingly. Mr. Astor 
was, in his eyes, his only real employer, being the father of the 
enterprise, who furnished all funds and bore all losses. The 
others were mere agents and subordinates, who lived at his 
expense. He evidently had but a narrow idea of the scope and 
nature of the enterprise, limiting his views merely to his 
part of it; everything beyond the concerns of his ship was 
out of his sphere; and anything that interfered with the 
routine of his nautical duties put him in a passion. 



ASTORIA. 47 

The partners, on the other hand, had been brought up in the 
service of the Northwest Company, and in a profound idea of 
the importance, dignity, and authority of a partner. They 
already began to consider themselves on a par with the 
M'Tavishes, the M'Gillivrays, the Frobishers, and the other 
magnates of the northwest, whom they had been accustomed 
to look up to as the great ones of the earth ; and they were a 
little disposed, perhaps, to wear their suddenly-acquired honors 
with some air of pretension. Mr. Astor, too, had put them on 
their mettle with respect to the captain, describing him as a 
gunpowder fellow who would command his ship in fine style, 
and, if there was any fighting to do, would "blow all out of 
the water." 

Thus prepared to regard each other with no very cordial 
eye, it is not to be wondered at that the parties soon came 
into collision. On the very first night Captain Thorn began 
his man-of-war discipline by ordering the lights in the cabin to 
be extinguished at eight o'clock. 

The pride of the partners was immediately in arms. This 
was an invasion of their rights and dignities not to be borne. 
They were on board of their own ship, and entitled to consult 
their ease and enjoyment. M'Dougal was the champion of 
their cause. He was an active, irritable, fuming, vainglorious 
little man, and elevated in his own opinion, by being the proxy 
of Mr. Astor. A violent altercation ensued, in the course of 
which Thorn threatened to put the partners in irons should 
they prove refractory; upon which M'Dougal seized a pistol 
and swore to be the death of the captain should he ever offer 
such an indignity. It was some time before the irritated 
parties could be pacified by the more temperate bystanders. 

Such was the captain's outset with the partners. Nor did 
the clerks stand much higher in his good graces ; indeed, he 
seems to have regarded all the landsmen on board his ship as 
a kind of live lumber, continually in the way. The poor voy- 
ageurs, too, continually irritated his spleen by their ' ' lubber- 
ly" and unseemly habits, so abhorrent to one accustomed to 
the cleanliness of a man-of-war. These poor fresh-water sail- 
ors, so vainglorious on shore, and almost amphibious when on 
lakes and rivers, lost all heart and stomach the moment they 
were at sea. For days they suffered the doleful rigors and 
retchings of sea-sickness, lurking below in their berths in squa- 
lid state, or emerging now and then like spectres from the 
hatchways, in capotes and blankets, with dirty nightcaps, 



48 A8T0EIA. 

grizzly beard, lantern visage and unhappy eye, shivering 
about the deck, and ever and anon crawling to the sides of 
the vessel, and offering up their tributes to the windward, to 
the infinite annoyance of the captain. 

His letters to Mr. Astor, wherein he pours forth the bitter- 
ness of his soul, and his seamanlike impatience of what he 
considers the ' ' lubberly" character and conduct of those 
around him, are before us, and are amusingly characteristic. 
The honest captain is full of vexation on his own account, 
and solicitude on account of Mr. Astor, whose property he 
considers at the mercy of a most heterogeneous and wasteful 
crew. 

As to the clerks, he pronounces them mere pretenders, not 
one of whom had ever been among the Indians, nor farther to 
the northwest than Montreal nor of higher rank than bar- 
keeper of a tavern or marker of a billiard-table, excepting one, 
who had been a schoolmaster, and whom he emphatically sets 
down for " as foolish a pedant as ever lived." 

Then as to the artisans and laborers who had been brought 
from Canada and shipped at such expense, the three most re- 
spectable, according to the captain's account, were culprits, 
who had fled from Canada on account of their misdeeds ; the 
rest had figured in Montreal as draymen, barbers, waiters and 
carriole drivers, and were the most helpless, worthless beings 
"that ever broke sea-biscuit." 

It may easily be imagined what a series of misunderstand- 
ings and cross-purposes would be likely to take place between 
such a crew and such a commander. The captain, in his zeal 
for the health and cleanliness of his ship, would make sweep- 
ing visitations to the " lubber nests" of the unlucky u voy- 
ageurs" and their companions in misery, ferret them out of 
their berths, make them air and wash themselves and their 
accoutrements, and oblige them to stir about briskly and take 
exercise. 

Nor did his disgust and vexation cease when all hands had 
recovered from sea sickness, and become accustomed to the 
ship, for now broke out an alarming keenness of appetite that 
threatened havoc to the provisions. What especially irritated 
the captain was the daintiness of some of his cabin passengers. 
They were loud in their complaints of the ship's fare, though 
their table was served with fresh pork, hams, tongues, smoked 
beef, and puddings. ' ' When thwarted in their cravings for 
delicacies," said he, "they would exclaim that it was d — d 



ASTORIA. 49 

hard they could not live as they pleased upon their own prop- 
erty, being on board of their own ship, freighted with their 
own merchandise. And these," added he, "are the fine fel- 
lows who made such boast that they could ' eat dogs.' " 

In his indignation at what he termed their effeminacy, he 
would swear that he would never take them to sea agaip 
k * without having Fly-market on the forecastle, Covent-gar- 
ien on the poop, and a cool spring from Canada in the main 
top." 

As they proceeded on their voyage and got into the smooth 
seas and pleasant weather of the tropics, other annoyances oc- 
curred to vex the spirit of the captain. He had been crossed 
by the irritable mood of one of the partners ; lie was now ex- 
cessively annoyed by the good-humor of another. This was 
the elder Stuart, who was an easy soul, and of a social dispo- 
sition. He had seen life in Canada, and on the coast of Labra- 
dor ; had been a f ur trader in the former, and a fisherman on 
the latter ; and in the course of his experience had made vari- 
ous expeditions with voyageurs. He was accustomed, there- 
fore, to the familiarity which prevails between that class and 
their superiors, and the gossipings which take place among 
them when seated round a fire at their encampments. Stuart 
was never so happy as when he could seat himself on the deck 
with a number of these men round him, in camping style, 
smoke together, passing the pipe from mouth to mouth, after 
the manner of the Indians, sing old Canadian boat-songs, and 
tell stories about their hardships and adventures, in the course 
of which he rivalled Sinbad in his long tales of the sea, about 
his fishing exploits on the coast of Labrador. 

This gossiping familiarity shocked the captain's notions of 
rank and subordination, and nothing was so abhorrent to him 
as the community of pipe between master and man, and their 
mingling in chorus in the outlandish boat-songs. 

Then there was another whimsical source of annoyance to 
him. Some of the young clerks, who were making their first 
voyage, and to whom everything was new and strange, were, 
very rationally, in the habit of taking notes and keeping 
journals. This was a sore abomination to the honest captain, 
who held their literary pretensions in great contempt. "The 
collecting of materials for long histories of their voyages and 
travels," said he, in his letter to Mr. Astor, " appears to en- 
gross most of their attention." We can conceive what must 
have been the crusty impatience of the worthy navigator, 



50 ASTORIA. 

when, on any trifling occurrence in the course of the voyage, 
quite commonplace in his eyes, he saw these young landsmen 
running to record it in their journals; and what indignant 
glances he must have cast to right and left, as he worried 
about the deck, giving out his orders for the management of 
the ship, surrounded by singing, smoking, gossiping, scrib- 
bling groups, all, as he thought, intent upon the amusement 
of the passing hour, instead of the great purposes and interests 
of the voyage. 

It is possible the captain was in some degree right in his no- 
tions, Though some of the passengers had much to gain by 
the voyage, none of them had anything positively to lose. 
They were mostly young men, in the heyday of life ; and hav- 
ing got into fine latitudes, upon smooth seas, with a well- 
stored ship under them, and a fair wind in the shoulder of the 
sail, they seemed to have got into a holiday world, and were 
disposed to enjoy it. That craving desire, natural to untrav- 
elled men of fresh and lively minds, to see strange lands, and 
to visit scenes famous in history or fable, was expressed by 
some of the partners and clerks, with respect to some of the 
storied coasts and islands that lay within their route. The 
captain, however, who regarded every coast and island with a 
matter-of-fact eye, and had no more associations connected 
with them than those laid down in his sea-chart, considered 
all this curiosity as exceedingly idle and childish. "In the 
first part of the voyage," says he in his letter, "they were de- 
termined to have it said they had been in Africa, and there 
fore insisted on my stopping at the Cape de Verdes. Next 
they said the ship should stop on the coast of Patagonia, for 
they must see the large and uncommon inhabitants of that 
place. Then they must go to the island where Kobinson Cru- 
soe had so long lived. And lastly, they were determined to 
see the handsome inhabitants of Easter Island." 

To all these resolves the captain opposed his peremptory 
veto, as "contrary to instructions." Then would break forth 
an unavailing explosion of wrath on the part of certain of the 
partners, in the course of which they did not even spare Mr. 
Astor for his act of supererogation in furnishing orders for the 
control of the ship while they were on board, instead of leaving 
them to the be judges where it would be best for her to touch, 
and how long to remain. The choleric M'Dougal took the lead 
in these railings, being, as has been observed, a little puffed up 
with the idea of being Mr. Astor's proxy. 



ASTORIA. q ± 

The captain, however, became only so much the more crusty 
and dogged in his adherence to his orders, and touchy and 
harsh in his dealings with his passengers, and frequent alter- 
cations ensued. He may in some measure have been in- 
fluenced by his seamanlike inpatience of the interference of 
landsmen, and his high notions of naval etiquette and quarter- 
deck authority ; but he evidently had an honest, trusty con- 
cern for the interests of his employer. He pictured to himself 
the anxious projector of the enterprise, who had disbursed so 
munificently in its outfit, calculating on the zeal, fidelity, and 
singleness of purpose of his associates and agents ; while they, 
on the other hand, having a good ship at their disposal, and a 
deep pocket at home to bear them out, seemed ready to loiter 
on every coast, and amuse themselves in every port. - 

On the fourth of December they came in sight of the Falkland 
Islands. Having been for some time on an allowance of water, 
it was resolved to anchor here and obtain a supply. A boat 
was sent into a small bay to take soundings. Mr. M'Dougal 
and Mr. M'Kay took this occasion to go on shore, but with a 
request from the captain that they would not detain the ship. 
Once on shore, however, they were in no haste to obey his 
orders, but rambled about in search of curiosities. The an- 
chorage proving unsafe, and water difficult to be procured, the 
captain stood out to sea, and made repeated signals for those on 
shore to rejoin the ship, but it was not until nine at night that 
they came on board. 

The wind being adverse, the boat was again sent on shore on 
the following morning, and the same gentlemen again landed, 
but promised to come off at a moment's warning ; they again 
forgot their promise in their eager pursuit of wild geese and 
sea-wolves. After a time the wind hauled fair, and signals 
were made for the boat. .Half an hour elapsed, but no boat 
put off. The captain reconnoitred the shore with his glass, and, 
to his infinite vexation, saw the loiterers in the full enjoyment of 
their ' ' wild-goose chase. " Nettled to the quick, he immediately 
made sail. When those on shore saw the ship actually under 
way, they embarked with all speed, but had a hard pull of 
eight miles before they got on board, and then experienced but 
a grim reception, notwithstanding that they came well laden 
with the spoils of the chase. 

Two days afterward, on the seventh of December, they an- 
chored at Port Egmont, in the same island, where they re- 
mained four days taking in water and making repairs. This 



52 ASTORIA. 

was a joyous time for the landsmen. They pitched a tent on 
shore, had a boat at their command, and passed their time 
merrily in rambling about the island, and coasting along the 
shores, shooting sea-lions, seals, foxes, geese, ducks, and 
penguins. None were keener in pursuit of this kind of game 
than M'Dougal and David Stuart ; the latter, was reminded of 
aquatic sports on the coast of Labrador, and his hunting ex 
ploits in the northwest. 

In the mean time the captain addressed himself steadily to 
the business of his ship, scorning the holiday spirit and useless 
pursuits of his emancipated messmates, and warning them, 
from time to time, not to wander away nor be out of hail. 
They promised, as usual, that the ship should never experience 
a moment's detention on their account, but as usual forgot 
their promise. 

On the morning of the 11th, the repairs being all finished, 
and the water-casks replenished, the signal was given to em- 
bark, and the ship began to weigh anchor. At this time several 
of the passengers were dispersed about the island, amusing 
themselves in various ways. Some of the young men had 
found two inscriptions, in English, over a place where two un- 
fortunate mariners had been buried in this desert island. As 
the inscriptions were nearly worn out by time and weather, 
they were playing the part of "Old Mortality," and piously 
renewing them. The signal from the ship summoned them 
from their labors ; they saw the sails unfurled, and that she was 
getting under way. The two sporting partners, however, Mr. 
M'Dougal and David Stuart, had strolled away to the south of 
the island in pursuit of penguins. It would never do to put off 
without them, as there was but one boat to convey the whole. 

While this delay took place on shore, the captain was storm- 
ing on board. This was the third -time his orders had been 
treated with contempt, and the ship wantonly detained, and 
it should be the last ; so he spread all sail and put to sea, swear- 
ing he would leave the laggards to shift for themselves. It was 
in vain that those on board made remonstrances and en- 
treaties, and represented the horrors of abandoning men upon 
a sterile and uninhabited island : the sturdy captain was in- 
flexible. 

In the mean time the penguin hunters had joined the en- 
gravers of tombstones, but not before the ship was already out 
at sea. They all, to the number of eight, threw themselves 
into their boat, which was about twenty feet in length, and 



ASTORIA. 53 

rowed with might and main. For three hours and a half did 
they tug anxiously and severely at the oar, swashed occasion 
ally by the surging waves of the open sea, while the ship in- 
exorably kept on her course, and seemed determined to leave 
them behind. 

On board of the ship was the nephew of David Stuart, a 
young man of spirit and resolution. Seeing, as he thought, 
the captain obstinately bent upon abandoning his uncle and 
the others, he seized a pistol, and in a paroxysm of wrath 
swore he would blow out the captain's brains unless he put 
about or shortened sail. 

Fortunately for all parties, the wind just then came ahead, 
and the boat was enabled to reach the ship ; otherwise, disas- 
trous circumstances might have ensued. We can hardly be- 
lieve that the captain really intended to carry his threat into 
full effect, and rather think he meant to let the laggards off 
for a long pull and a hearty fright. He declared, however, in 
his letter to Mr. Astor, that he was serious in his threats ; and 
there is no knowing how far such an iron man may push his 
notions of authority. 

c ' Had the wind, " writes he, ' ' (unfortunately) not hauled ahead 
soon after leaving the harbor's mouth, I should positively have 
left them; and, indeed, I cannot but think it an unfortunate 
circumstance for you that it so happened, for the first loss in 
this instance would, in my opinion, have proved the best, as 
they seem to have no idea of the value of property, nor any 
apparent regard for your interest, although interwoven with 
their own." * 

This, it must be confessed, was acting with a high hand, and 
carrying a regard to the owner's property to a dangerous 
length. Various petty feuds occurred also between him and 
the partners in respect to the goods on board the ship, some 
articles of which they wished to distribute for clothing among 
the men, or for other purposes which they deemed essential. 
The captain, however, kept a mastiff watch upon the cargo, 
and growled and snapped if they but offered to touch box or 
bale. "It was contrary to orders; it would forfeit his insur- 
ance; it was out of all rule." It was in vain they insisted 
upon their right to do so, as part owners, and as acting for the 
good of the enterprise ; the captain only stuck to his point the 
more stanchly. They consoled themselves, therefore, by de- 
claring that as soon as they made land they would assert their 
rights, and do with ship and cargo as they pleased. 



54 ASTORIA. 

Besides these feuds between the captain and the partners, 
there were feuds between the partners themselves, occasioned, 
in some measure, by jealousy of rank. M'Dougal and M'Kay 
began to draw plans for the fort, and other buildings of the 
intended establishment. They agreed very well as to the out 
Line and dimensions, which were on a sufficiently grand scale: 
but when they came to arrange the details, fierce disputes 
arose, and they would quarrel by the hour about the distribu 
Aion of the doors and windows. Many were the hard words 
md hard names bandied between them on these occasions, 
according to the captain's account. Each accused the other oi 
endeavoring to assume unwarrantable power, and to take the 
lead ; upon which Mr. M'Dougal would vauntingly lay down 
Mr. Astor's letter, constituting him his representative and 
proxy, a document not to be disputed. 

These wordy contests, though violent, were brief; " and with- 
in fifteen minutes," says the captain, " they would be caress- 
ing each other like children." 

While all this petty anarchy was agitating the little world 
within the Tonquin, the good ship prosperously pursued her 
course, doubled Cape Horn on the 25th of December, careered 
across the bosom of the Pacific, until, on the 11th of February, 
the snowy peaks of Owyhee were seen brightening above the 
horizon. 



CHAPTER VI. 



Owyhee, or Hawaii, as it is written by more exact orthogra* 
phers, is the largest of the cluster, ten in number, of the Sand^ 
wich Islands. It is about ninety -seven miles in length and 
seventy-eight in breadth, rising gradually into three pyramidal 
summits or cones; the highest, Mouna Roa, being eighteen 
thousand feet above the level of the sea, so as to domineer 
over the whole Archipelago, and to be a landmark over a wide 
extent of ocean. It remains a lasting monument of the enter- 
prising and unfortunate Captain Cook, who was murdered by 
the natives of this island. 

The Sandwich Islanders, when first discovered, evinced a 
character superior to most of the savages of the Pacific Isles. 
They were frank and open in their deportment, friendly and 



ASTORIA. 55 

liberal in their dealings, with an apt ingenuity apparent in all 
their rude inventions. 

The tragical fate of the discoverer, which, for a time, brought 
them under the charge of ferocity, was, in fact, the result of 
sudden exasperation, caused by the seizure of their chief. 

At the time of the visit of the Tonquin, the islanders had 
profited, in many respect?, by occasional intercourse with 
white men ; and had shown a quickness to observe and culti- 
vate those arts important to their mode of living. Originally 
they had no means of navigating the seas by which they were 
surrounded, superior to light pirogues which were little com- 
petent to contend with the storms of the broad ocean. As the 
islanders are not in sight of each other, there could, therefore, 
be but casual intercourse between them. The traffic with 
white men had put them in possession of vessels of superior 
description ; they had made themselves acquainted with their 
management, and had even made rude advances in the art of 
ship-building. 

These improvements had been promoted, in a great measure, 
by the energy and sagacity of one man, the famous Tamaah- 
maah. He had originally been a petty eri, or chief ; but, being 
of an intrepid' and aspiring nature, he had risen in rank, and, 
availing himself of the superior advantages now afforded in 
navigation, had brought the whole Archipelago in subjection 
to his arms. At the time of the arrival of the Tonquin he had 
about forty schooners, of from twenty to thirty tons burden, 
and one old American ship. With these he maintained undis- 
puted sway over his insular domains, and carried on an inter- 
course with the chiefs or governors whom he had placed in 
command of the several islands. 

The situation of this group of islands, far in the bosom of 
the vast Pacific, and their abundant fertility, rendered them 
important stopping places on the highway to China, or to the 
northwest coast of America. Here the vessels engaged in the 
fur trade touched to make repairs and procure provisions ; and 
here they often sheltered themselves during the winters that 
occurred in their long coasting expeditions. 

The British navigators were, from the first, aware of the 
value of these islands to the purposes of commerce ; and 
Tamaahmaah, not long after he had attained the sovereign 
sway, was persuaded by Vancouver, the celebrated discoverer, 
to acknowledge, on behalf of himself and subjects, allegiance 
to the King of Great Britain. The reader cannot but call to 



56 ASTORIA. 

mind the visit which the royal family and court of the Sand- 
wich Islands was, in late years, induced to make to the court 
of St. James ; and the serio-comic ceremonials and mock, pa- 
rade which attended that singular travesty of monarchal style. 

It was a part of the wide and comprehensive plan of Mr. 
Astor to establish a friendly intercourse between these islands 
and his intended colony, which might, for a time, have occa 
sion to draw supplies thence ; and he even had a vague idea of, 
some time or other, getting possession of one of their islands 
as a rendezvous for his ships, and a link in the chain of his 
commercial establishments. 

On the evening of the 12th of February the Tonquip 
anchored in the bay of Karakakooa, in the island of Owyhee 
The surrounding shores were wild and broken, with overhang- 
ing cliffs and precipices of black volcanic rock. Beyond these, 
however, the country was fertile and well cultivated, with 
inclosures of yams, plantains, sweet potatoes, sugar-canes r 
and other productions of warm climates and teeming soils ; and 
the numerous habitations of the natives were pleasantly 
sheltered beneath clumps of cocoanut and bread-fruit trees, 
which afforded both food and shade. This mingled variety of 
garden and grove swept gradually up the sides of the moun- 
tains until succeeded by dense forests, which in turn gave 
place to naked and craggy rocks, until the summits rose into 
the regions of perpetual snow. 

The royal residence of Tamaahmaah was at this time at 
another island named Woahoo. The island of Owyhee was 
undei the command of one of his eris, or chiefs, who resided 
at the village of Tocaigh, situated on a different part of the 
coast from the bay of Karakakooa. 

On the morning after her arrival, the ship was surrounded 
by canoes and pirogues, filled with the islanders of both sexes, 
bringing off supplies of fruits and vegetables, bananas, plain- 
tains, watermelons, yams, cabbages, and taro. The captain 
vas desirous, however, of purchasing a number of hogs, but 
there were none to be had. The trade in pork was a royal 
monopoly, and no subject of the great Tamaahmaah dared to 
meddle with it. Such provisions as they could furnish, how- 
ever, were brought by the natives in abundance, and a lively 
intercourse was kept up during the day, in which the women 
mingled in the kindest manner. 

The islanders are a comely race, of a copper complexion. 
The men are tall and well made, with forms indicating 



ASTORIA. 57 

strength and activity ; the women with regular and occasion- 
ally handsome features, and a lascivious expression, character- 
istic of their temperament. Their style of dress w.as nearly 
the same as in the days of Captain Cook. The men wore the 
maro, a band one foot in width and several feet in length, 
swathed round the loins, and formed of tappa, or cloth of bark ; 
the kihei, or mantle, about six feet square, tied in a knot over 
one shoulder, passed under the opposite arm, so as to leave it 
bare and, falling in graceful folds before and behind, to the 
knee, so as to bear some resemblance to a Roman toga. 

The female dress consisted of the pau, a garment formed of 
a piece of tappa, several yards in length and one in width, 
wrapped round the waist and reaching, like a petticoat, to the 
knees. Over this a kihei or mantle, larger than that of the 
men, sometimes worn over both shoulders, like a shawl, some- 
times over one only. These mantles were seldom worn by 
either sex during the heat of the day, when the exposure of 
their persons was at first very revolting to a civilized eye. 

Toward evening several of the partners and clerks went on 
shore, where they were well received and hospitably enter- 
tained. A dance was performed for their amusement, in which 
nineteen young women and one man figured very gracefully, 
singing in concert, and moving to the cadence of their song. 

All this, however, was nothing to the purpose in the eyes of 
Captain Thorn, who, being disappointed in his hope of obtain- 
ing a supply of pork, or finding good water, was anxious to be 
off. This it was not so easy to effect. The passengers, once 
on shore, were disposed, as usual, to profit by the occasion. 
The partners had many inquiries to make relative to the island, 
with a view to business ; while the young clerks were delighted 
with the charms and graces of the dancing damsels. 

To add to their gratifications, an old man offered to conduct 
them to the spot where Captain Cook was massacred. The 
proposition was eagerly accepted, and all hands set out on a 
pilgrimage to the place. The veteran islander performed his 
promise faithfully, and pointed out the very spot where the un- 
fortunate discoverer fell. The rocks and cocoa-trees around 
bore record of the fact, in the marks of the balls fired from the 
boats upon the savages. The pilgrims gathered round the old 
man, and drew from him all the particulars he had to relate 
respecting this memorable event; while the honest captain 
stood by and bit his nails with impatience. To add to his 
vexation, they employed themselves in knocking off pieces of 



58 ASTORIA. 

the rocks, and cutting off the bark of the trees marked by the 
balls, which they conveyed back to the ship as precious relics. 

Eight glad, therefore, was he to get them and their treasures 
fairly on board, when he made sail from this unprofitable 
place, and steered for the Bay of Tocaigh, the residence of the 
chief or governor of the island, where he hoped to be more 
successful in obtaining supplies. On coming to anchor the 
captain went on shore, accompanied by Mr. M'Dougal and 
Mr. M'Kay, and paid a visit to the governor. This dignitary 
proved to be an old sailor, by the name of John Young ; who, 
after being tossed about the seas like another Sinbad, had, by 
one of the whimsical freaks of fortune, been elevated to the 
government of a savage island. He received his visitors with 
more hearty familiarity than personages in his high station are 
apt to indulge, but soon gave, them to understand that pro- 
visions were scanty at Tocaigh, and that there was no good 
water, no rain having fallen in the neighborhood in three 
years. 

The captain was immediately for breaking up the conference 
and departing, but the partners were not so willing to part with 
the nautical governor, who seemed disposed to be extremely 
communicative, and from whom they might be able to pro- 
cure some useful information. A long conversation accord- 
ingly ensued, in the course of which they made many inquiries 
about the affairs of the islands, their natural productions, and 
the possibility of turning them to advantage in the way of 
trade ; nor did they fail to inquire into the individual history of 
John Young, and how he came to be governor. This he gave 
with great condescension, running through the whole course 
of his fortunes, " even from his boyish days." 

He was a native of Liverpool, in England, and had followed 
the sea from boyhood, until, by dint of good conduct, he had 
risen so far in his profession as to be boatswain of an Ameri- 
can ship called the Eleanor, commanded by Captain Metcalf . 
In this vessel he had sailed in 1789, on one of those casual 
expeditions to the northwest coast in quest of furs. In the 
course of the voyage the captain left a small schooner, named 
the Fair American, at Nootka, with a crew of five men, com- 
manded by his son, a youth of eighteen. She was to follow on 
in the track of the Eleanor. 

In February, 1790, Captain Metcalf touched at the island of 
Mowee, one of the Sandwich group. While anchored here, a 
boat which was astern of the Eleanor was stolen, and a seaman 



ASTORIA. 59 

who was in it was killed. The natives, generally, disclaimed 
the outrage, and brought the shattered remains of the boat and 
the dead body of the seaman to the ship. Supposing that they 
had thus appeased the anger of the captain, they thronged, as 
usual, in great numbers about the vessel, to trade. Captain 
Metcalf , however, determined on a bloody revenge. The Elea- 
nor mounted ten guns. All these he ordered to be loaded with) 
musket-balls, nails, and pieces of old iron, and then fired them, 
and the small arms of the ship, among the natives. The havoc 
was dreadful; more than a hundred, according to Young's 
account, were slain. 

After this signal act of vengeance, Captain Metcalf sailed 
from Mowee, and made for the island of Owyhee, wl;ere he 
was well received by Tamaahmaah. The fortunes of this war- 
like chief were at that time on the rise. He had originally 
been of inferior rank, ruling over only one or two districts of 
Owyhee, but had gradually made himself sovereign of his na- 
tive island. 

The Eleanor remained some few days at anchor here, and an 
apparently friendly intercourse was kept up with the inhabi- 
tants. On the 17th March John Young obtained permission 
to pass the night on shore. On the following morning a signal 
gun summoned him to return on board. 

He went to the shore to embark, but found all the canoes 
hauled up on the beach and rigorously tabooed, or interdicted. 
He would have launched one himself, but was informed by 
Tamaahmaah that if he presumed to do so he would be put to 
death. 

Young was obliged to submit, and remained all day in great 
perplexity to account for this mysterious taboo, and fearful 
that some hostility was intended. In the evening he learned 
the cause of it, and his uneasiness was increased. It appeared 
that the vindictive act of Captain Metcalf had recoiled upon 
his own head. The schooner Fair American, commanded by 
his son, following in his track, had fallen into the hands of the 
natives to the southward of Tocaigh Bay, and young Metcalf 
and four of the crew had been massacred. 

On receiving intelligence of this event, Tamaahmaah had 
immediately tabooed all the canoes, and interdicted all inter- 
course with the ship, lest the captain should learn the fate of 
the schooner, and take his revenge upon the island. For the 
same reason he prevented Young from rejoining his country- 
men. The Eleanor continued to fire signals from time to time 



60 ASTORIA. 

for two days, and then sailed ; concluding, no doubt, that the 
boatswain had deserted. 

John Young was in despair when he saw the ship make sail, 
and found himself abandoned among savages; and savages, 
too, sanguinary in their character, and inflamed by acts ot 
hostility. He was agreeably disappointed, however, in expe- 
riencing nothing but kind treatment from Tamaahmaah and 
his people. It is true, he was narrowly watched whenever a 
vessel came in sight, lest he should escape and relate what had 
passed ; but at other times he was treated with entire confi- 
dence and great distinction. He became a prime favorite, cab- 
inet counsellor, and active coadjutor of Tamaahmaah, attend- 
ing him in all his excursions, whether of business or pleasure, 
and aiding in his warlike and ambitious enterprises. By de- 
grees he rose to the rank of a chief, espoused one of the beauties 
of the island, and became habituated and reconciled to his new 
way of lif e ; thinking it better, perhaps, to rule among savages 
than serve among white men ; to be a feathered chief than a 
tarpawling boatswain. His favor with Tamaahmaah never de- 
clined ; and when that sagacious, intrepid, and aspiring chief- 
tain had made himself sovereign over the whole group of 
islands, and removed his residence to Woahoo, he left his faith- 
ful adherent John Young in command of Owyhee. 

Such is an outline of the history of Governor Young, as fur- 
nished by himself ; and we regret that we are not able to give 
any account of the state maintained by this seafaring worthy, 
and the manner in which he discharged his high functions ; 
though it is evident he had more of the hearty familiarity of 
the forecastle than the dignity of the gubernatorial office. 

These long conferences were bitter trials to the patience of 
the captain, who had no respect either for the governor or his 
island, and was anxious to push on in quest of provisions and 
water. As soon as he could get his inquisitive partners once 
more on board, he weighed anchor, and made sail for the 
island of Woahoo, the royal residence of Tamaahmaah. 

This is the most beautiful island of the Sandwich group. It 
is forty-six miles in length and twenty-three in breadth. A 
ridge of volcanic mountains extends through the centre, rising 
into lofty peaks, and skirted by undulating hills and rich 
plains, where the cabins of the natives peep out from beneath 
groves of cocoanut and other luxuriant trees. 

On the 21st of February the Tonquin cast anchor in the beau- 
tiful bay before the village of Waititi, (pronounced Whyteetee), 



ASTORIA. 61 

the abode of Tamaahmaah. This village contained about two 
hundred habitations, composed of poles set in the ground, tied 
together at the ends, and thatched with grass, and was situated 
in an open grove of cocoanuts. The royal palace of Tamaah- 
maah was a large house of two stories ; the lower of stone, the 
upper of wood. Round this his body-guard kept watch, com- 
posed of twenty-four men, in long blue cassocks turned up 
with yellow, and each armed with a musket. 

While at anchor at this place, much ceremonious visiting 
and long conferences took place between the potentate of the 
islands and the partners of the company. Tamaahmaah came 
on board of the ship in royal style, in his double pirogue. He 
was between fifty and sixty years of age, above the middle 
size, large and well made, though somewhat corpulent. He 
was dressed in an old suit of regimentals, with a sword by his 
side, and seemed somewhat embarrassed by his magnificent 
attire. Three of his wives accompanied him. They were 
almost as tall, and quite as corpulent as himself ; but by no 
means to be compared with him in grandeur of habiliments, 
wearing no other garb than the pau. With him also came his 
great favorite and confidential counsellor, Kraimaker; who, 
from holding a post equivalent to that of prime minister, had 
been familiarly named Billy Pitt by the British visitors to the 
islands. 

The sovereign was received with befitting ceremonial. The 
American flag was displayed, four guns were fired, and the 
partners appeared in scarlet coats, and conducted their illus- 
trious guests to the cabin, where they were regaled with wine. 
In this interview the partners endeavored to impress the mon- 
arch with a sense of their importance, and of the importance 
of the association to which they belonged. They let him know 
that they were eris, or chiefs, of a great company about to be 
established on the northwest coast, and talked of the probability 
of opening a trade with his islands, and of sending ships there 
occasionally. All this was gratifying and interesting to him. 
for he was aware of the advantages of trade, and desirous of 
promoting frequent intercourse with white men. He encour- 
aged Europeans and Americans to settle in his islands, and 
intermarry with his subjects. There were between twenty and 
thirty white men at that time resident in the island, but many 
of them were mere vagabonds, who remained there in hopes 
of leading a lazy and an easy life. For such Tamaahmaah had 
a great contempt ; those only had his esteem and countenance 



62 ASTORIA. 

who knew some trade or mechanic art, and were sober and in- 
dustrious. 

On the day subsequent to the monarch's visit, the partners 
landed and waited upon him in return. Knowing the effect of 
show and dress upon men in savage life, and wishing to make 
a favorable impression as the eris, or chiefs, of the great Amer- 
ican Fur Company, some of them appeared in Highland plaids 
and kilts, to the great admiration of the natives. 

While visits of ceremony and grand diplomatic conferences 
were going on between the partners and the king, the captain, 
in his plain, matter-of-fact way, was pushing what he consid- 
ered a far more important negotiation— the purchase of a sup- 
ply of hogs. He found that the king had profited in more 
ways than one by his intercourse with white men. Above all 
other arts he had learned the art of driving a bargain. He was 
a magnanimous monarch, but a shrewd pork merchant, and 
perhaps thought he could not do better with his future allies, 
the American Fur Company, than to begin by close dealing. 
Several interviews were requisite, and much bargaining, be- 
fore he could be brought to part with a bristle of his bacon, 
and then he insisted upon being paid in hard Spanish dollars, 
giving as a reason that he wanted money to purchase a frigate 
from his brother George, as he affectionately termed the King 
of England.* 

At length the royal bargain was concluded : the necessary 
supply of hogs obtained, besides several goats, two sheep, a 
quantity of poultry, and vegetables in abundance. The part- 
ners now urged to recruit their forces from the natives of this 



* It appears, from the accounts of subsequent voyages, that Tamaahmaah, after- 
ward succeeded in his wish of purchasing a large ship. In this he sent a cargo of 
sandal-wood to Canton, having discovered that the foreign merchants trading with 
him made large profits on this wood, shipped by them from the islands to the 
Chinese markets. The ship was manned by natives, but the officers were English^ 
men. She accomplished her voyage, and returned in safety to the islands, with the 
Hawaiian flag floating gloriously in the breeze. The king hastened on board, ex> 
pecting to find his sandal-wood converted into crapes and damasks, and other rich 
stuffs of China, but found, to his astonishment, by the legerdemain of traffic, his 
cargo had all disappeared, and, in place of it, remained a bill of charges amounting 
to three thousand dollars. It was some time before he could be made to compre- 
hend certain of the most important items of the bill, such as pilotage, anchorage, 
and custom-house fees; but when he discovered that maritime states in other 
countries derived large revenues in this manner, to the great cost of the merchant, 
4 ' Well," cried he, " then I will have harbor fees also." He established them ac- 
cordingly. Pilotage a dollar a foot on the draft of each vessel. Anchorage from 
sixty to seventy dollars. In this way he greatly increased the royal revenue, ano 
turned his China speculation to account. 



ASTORIA. 63 

island. They declared they had never seen watermen equal to 
them, even among the voyageurs of the northwest; and in- 
deed they are remarkable for their skill in managing their 
light craft, and can swim and dive like water-fowl. The part- 
ners were inclined, therefore, to take thirty or fSfty with them 
to the Columbia, to be employed in the service of the company c 
The captain, however, objected that there was not room in his 
vessel for the accommodation of such a number. Twelve, 
only,. were therefore enlisted for the company, and as many 
more for the service of the ship. The former engaged to serve 
for the term of three years, during which they were to be fed 
and clothed, and at the expiration of the time were to receive 
one hundred dollars in merchandise. 

And now, having embarked his live-stock, fruits, vegetables, 
and water, the captain made ready to set sail. How much the 
honest man had suffered in spirit by what he considered the 
freaks and vagaries of his passengers, and how little he had 
understood their humors and intentions, is amusingly shown 
in a letter written to Mr. Astor from Woahoo, which contains 
his comments on the scenes we have described. 

" It would be difficult," he writes, u to imagine the frantic 
gambols that are daily played off here ; sometimes dressing in 
red coats, and otherwise very fantastically, and collecting a 
number of ignorant natives around them, telling them that 
they are the great earis of the northwest, and making arrange- 
ments for sending three or four vessels yearly to them from 
the coast with spars, etc. ; while those very natives cannot 
even furnish a hog to the ship. Then dressing in Highland 
plaids and kilts, and making similar arrangements, with pres- 
ents of rum, wine, or anything that is at hand. Then taking 
a number of clerks and men on shore to the very spot on 
which Captain Cook was killed, and each fetching off a piece 
of the rock or tree that was touched by the shot. Then sitting 
down with some white man or some native who can be a little 
understood, and collecting the history of those islands, of Ta= 
maahmaah's wars, the curiosities of the islands, etc., preparatory 
to the histories of their voyages; and the collection is indeed 
ridiculously contemptible. To enumerate the thousand in 
stances of ignorance, filth, etc, or to particularize all the fran 
tic gambols that are daily practised, would require volumes." 

Before embarking the great eris of the American Fur Com- 
pany took leave of their illustrious ally in due style, with 
many professions of lasting friendship and promises of future 



64 ASTORIA. 

intercourse; while the matter-of-fact captain anathematized 
him in his heart for a grasping, trafficking savage, as shrewd 
and sordid in his dealings as a white man. As one of the ves- 
sels of the company will, in the course of events, have to ap- 
peal to the justice and magnanimity of this island potentate, 
we shall see how far the honest captain was right in his 
opinion. 



CHAPTER VII. 



It was on the 28th of February that the Tonquin set sail from 
the Sandwich Islands. For two days the wind was contrary, 
and the vessel was detained in their neighborhood ; at length a 
favorable breeze sprang up, and in a little while the rich 
groves, green hills, and snowy peaks of those happy islands 
one after another sank from sight, or melted into the blue 
distance, and the Tonquin ploughed her course toward the 
sterner regions of the Pacific. 

The misunderstandings between the captain and his passen- 
gers still continued ; or rather, increased in gravity. By his 
altercations and his moody humors he had cut himself off from 
all community of thought or freedom of conversation with 
them. He disdained to ask any questions as to their proceed- 
ings, and could only guess at the meaning of their movements, 
and in so doing indulged in conjectures and suspicions which 
produced the most whimsical self-tormenc. 

Thus, in one of his disputes with them, relative to the goods 
on board, some of the packages of which they wished to open, 
to take out articles of clothing for the men, or presents for the 
natives, he was so harsh and peremptory that they lost all pa- 
tience, and hinted that they were the strongest party, and 
might reduce him to a very ridiculous dilemma, by taking from 
him the command. 

A thought now flashed across the captain's mind that they 
really had a design to depose him, and that, having picked up 
some information at Owyhee, possibly of war between the 
United States and England, they meant to alter the destination 
of the voyage, perhaps to seize upon ship and cargo for their 
own use. 

Once having conceived this suspicion, everything went to 



ASTORIA. 65 

foster it. They had distributed firearms among some of their 
men, a common precaution among the fur traders when ming- 
ling with the natives. This, howeyer, looked like preparation. 
Then several of the partners and clerks and some of the men, 
being Scotsmen, were acquainted with the Gaelic, and held long 
conversations together in that language. These conversations 
were considered by the captain of a "mysterious and unwar* 
rantable nature," and related, no doubt, to some foul conspir- 
acy that was brewing among them. He frankly avows such 
suspicions in his letter to Mr! Astor, but intimates that he stood 
ready to resist any treasonous outbreak, and seems to think 
that the evidence of preparation on his part had an effect in 
overawing the conspirators. 

The fact is, as we have since been informed by one of the 
parties, it was a mischievous pleasure with some of the partners 
and clerks, who were young men, to play upon the suspicious 
temper and splenetic humors of the captain. To this we may 
ascribe many of their whimsical pranks and absurd proposi- 
tions, and, above all, their mysterious colloquies in Gaelic. 

In this sore and irritable mood did the captain pursue his 
course, keeping a wary eye on every movement, and bristling 
up whenever the detested sound of the Gaelic language grated 
upon his ear. Nothing occurred, however, materially to disturb 
the residue of the voyage, excepting a violent storm; and on 
the twenty-second of March the Tonquin arrived at the mouth 
of the Oregon or Columbia Eiver. 

The aspect of the river and the adjacent coast was wild and 
dangerous. The mouth of the Columbia is upward of four 
miles wide, with a peninsula and promontory on one side, and 
a long low spit of land on the other ; between which a sand-bar 
and chain of breakers almost block up the entrance. The in- 
terior of the country rises into successive ranges of mountains, 
which, at the time of the arrival of the Tonquin, were covered 
with snow. 

A fresh wind from the northwest sent a rough tumbling sea 
upon the coast, which broke upon the bar in furious surges, 
and extended a sheet of foam almost across the mouth of the 
river. Under these circumstances the captain did not think it 
prudent to approach within three leagues, until the bar should 
be sounded and the channel ascertained. Mr. Fox, the chief 
mate, was ordered to this service in the whaleboat, accompa- 
nied by John Martin, an old seaman, who had formerly visited 
the river, and by three Canadians. Fox requested to have 



66 ASTORIA. 

regular sailors to man the boat, but the captain would not 
spare them from the service of the ship, and supposed the Ca~ 
nadians, being expert boatmen on lakes and rivers, were com- 
petent to the service, especially when directed and aided by 
Fox and Martin. Fox seems to have lost all firmness of spirit 
on the occasion, and to have regarded the service with a mis- 
giving heart. He came to the partners for sympathy, know- 
ing their differences with the captain, and the tears were in 
his eyes as he represented his case. "I am sent off," said he, 
" without seamen to man my boat, in boisterous weather, and 
on the most dangerous part of the northwest coast. My uncle 
was lost a few years ago on this same bar, and I am now going 
to lay my bones alongside of his." The partners sympathized 
in his apprehensions, and remonstrated with the captain. The 
latter, however, was not to be moved. He had been displeased 
with Mr. Fox in the earlier part of the voyage, considering him 
indolent and inactive, and probably thought his present repug- 
nance arose from a want of true nautical spirit. The interfer- 
ence of the partners in the business of the ship, also, was not 
calculated to have a favorable effect on a stickler for authority 
like himself, especially in Ms actual state of feeling toward 
them. 

At one o'clock p.m., therefore, Fox and his comrades set off 
in the whaleboat, which is represented as small in size and 
crazy in condition. All eyes were strained after the little bark 
as it pulled for shore, rising and sinking with the huge rolling 
waves, until it entered, a mere speck, among the foaming 
breakers, and was soon lost to view. Evening set in, night 
succeeded and passed away, and morning returned, but with- 
out the return of the boat. 

As the wind had moderated, the ship stood near to the land, 
so as to command a view of the river's mouth. Nothing was 
to be seen but a wild chaos of tumbling waves breaking upon 
the bar, and apparently forming a foaming barrier from shore 
to shore. Toward night the ship again stood out to gain sea- 
room, and a gloom was visible in every countenance. The 
captain himself shared in the general anxiety, and probably 
repented of his peremptory orders. Another weary and watch- 
ful night succeeded, during which the wind subsided, and the 
weather became serene. 

On the following day, the ship, having drifted near the land, 
anchored in fourteen fathoms water, to the northward of the 
long peninsula or promontory which forms the north side of 



ASTORIA. 67 

tne entrance, and is called Cape Disappointment. The pinnace 
was then manned, and two of the partners, Mr. David Stuart 
and Mr. M'Kay, set off in the hope of learning something of 
the fate of the whaleboat. The surf , however, broke with such 
violence along the shore that they could find no landing place. 
Several of the natives appeared on the beach and made signs 
to them to row round the cape, but they thought it most pru- 
dent to return to the ship. 

The wind now springing up, the Tonquin got under way, and 
stood in to seek the channel, but was again deterred, by the 
frightful aspect of the breakers, from venturing within a 
league. Here she hove to, and Mr. Mumf ord, the second mate, 
was dispatched with four hands, in the pinnace, to 'sound 
across the channel, until he should find four fathoms depth. 
The pinnace entered among the breakers, but was near being 
lost, and with difficulty got back to the ship. The captain in- 
sisted that Mr. Mumf ord had steered too much to the south- 
ward. He now turned to Mr. Aiken, an able mariner, destined 
to command the schooner intended for the coasting trade, and 
ordered him, together with John Coles, sailmaker, Stephen 
Weekes, armorer, and two Sandwich Islanders, to proceed 
ahead and take soundings while the ship should follow under 
easy sail. In this way they proceeded until Aiken had ascer- 
tained the channel, when signal was given from the ship for 
him to return on board. He was then within pistol-shot, but 
so furious was the current, and tumultuous the breakers, that 
the boat became unmanageable, and was hurried away, the 
crew crying out piteously for assistance. In a few moments 
she could not be seen from the ship's deck. Some of the 
passengers climbed to the mizzentop, and beheld her still 
struggling to reach the ship; but shortly after she broached 
broadside to the waves, and her case seemed desperate. The 
attention of those on board of the ship was now called to their 
own safety. They were in shallow water; the vessel struck 
repeatedly, the waves broke over her, and there was danger of 
her foundering. At length she got into seven fathoms water, 
and the wind lulling, and the night coming on, cast anchor. 
With the darkness their anxieties increased. The wind 
whistled, the sea roared; the gloom was only broken by the 
ghastly glare of the foaming breakers, the minds of the sea- 
men were full of dreary apprehensions, and some of them 
fancied they heard the cries of their lost comrades mingling 
with the uproar of the elements. For a time, too, the rapidly 



68 ASTORIA. 

ebbing tide threatened to sweep them from their precarious 
anchorage. At length the reflux of the tide and the springing 
up of the wind enabled them to quit their dangerous situation, 
and take shelter in a small bay within Cape Disappointment, 
where they rode in safety during the residue of a stormy night, 
and enjoyed a brief interval of refreshing sleep. 

With the light of day returned their cares and anxieties. 
They looked out from the masthead over a wild coast and 
wilder sea, but could discover no trace of the two boats and 
their crews that were missing. Several of the natives came on 
board with peltries, but there was no disposition to trade. 
They were interrogated by signs after the lost boats, but could 
not understand the inquiries. 

Parties now went on shore and scoured the neighborhood. 
One of these was headed by the captain. They had not pro- 
ceeded far when they beheld a person at a distance in civilized 
garb. As he drew near he proved to be Weekes, the armorer. 
There was a burst of joy, for it was hoped his comrades were 
near at hand. His story, however, was one of disaster. He 
and his companions had found it impossible to govern their 
boat, having no rudder, and being beset by rapid and whirling 
currents and boisterous surges. After long struggling they 
had let her go at the mercy of the waves, tossing about some- 
times with her bow, sometimes with her broadside to the 
surges, threatened each instant with destruction, yet re- 
peatedly escaping, until a huge sea broke over and swamped 
her. Weekes was overwhelmed by the boiling waves, but 
emerging above the surface, looked round for his companions. 
Aikin and Coles were not to be seen ; near him were the two 
Sandwich Islanders, stripping themselves of their clothing 
that they might swim more freely. He did the same, and the 
boat floating near to him, he seized hold of it. The two 
islanders joined him, and uniting their forces, they succeeded 
in turning the boat upon her keel; then bearing down her 
stern and rocking her, they forced out so much water that she 
was able to bear the weight of a man without sinking. One of 
the islanders now got in and in a little while bailed out the 
water with his hands. The other swam about and collected 
the oars, and they all three got once more on board. 

By this time the tide had swept them beyond the breakers, 
and Weekes called on his companions to row for land. They 
were so chilled and benumbed by the cold, however, that they 
lost all heart, and absolutely refused. Weekes was equally 



ASTOBIA. 69 

chilled, but had superior sagacity and self-command. He 
counteracted the tendency to drowsiness and stupor which cold 
produces by keeping himself in constant exercise ; and seeing 
that the vessel was advancing, and that everything depended 
upon himself, he set to work to scull the boat clear of the bar, 
and into quiet water. 

Toward midnight one of the poor islanders expired; his 
companion threw himself on his corpse and could not be per 
suaded to leave him. The dismal night wore away amid these 
horrors ; as the day dawned, Weekes found himself near the 
land. He steered directly for it, and at length, with the aid of 
the surf, ran his boat high upon a sandy beach. 

Finding that one of the Sandwich Islanders yet gave signs of 
life, he aided him to leave the boat, and set out with him 
toward the adjacent woods. The poor fellow, however, was 
too feeble to follow him, and Weekes was soon obliged to aban- 
don him to his fate and provide for his own safety. Falling 
upon a beaten path, he pursued it, and after a few hours came 
to a part of the coast where, to his surprise and joy, he beheld 
flie ship at anchor, and was met by the captain and his party, 

After Weekes had related his adventures, three parties were 
dispatched to beat up the coast in search of the unfortunate 
islander. They returned at night without success, though they 
had used the utmost diligence. On the following day the 
search was resumed, and the poor fellow was at length dis- 
covered lying beneath a group of rocks, his legs swollen, his 
feet torn and bloody, from walking through bushes and briers, 
and himself half dead with cold, hunger, and fatigue. Weekes 
and this islander were the only survivors of the crew of the, 
jolly-boat, and no trace was ever discovered of Fox and his 
party. Thus eight men were lost on the first approach to the 
coast— a commencement that cast a gloom over the spirits of 
the whole party, and was regarded by some of the supersti- 
tious as an omen that boded no good to the enterprise. 

Toward night the Sandwich Islanders went on shore to bury 
the body of their unfortunate countryman who had perished 
in the boat. On arriving at the place where it had been left, 
they dug a grave in the sand, in which they deposited the 
corpse, with a biscuit under one of the arms, some lard under 
the chin, and a small quantity of tobacco, as provisions for its 
journey in the land of spirits. Having covered the body with 
sand and flints, they kneeled along the grave in a double row, 
with their faces turned to the east, while one who officiated as 



70 ASTORIA. 

a priest sprinkled them with water from a hat. In so doing 
he recited a kind of prayer or invocation, to which, at inter- 
vals, the others made responses. Such were the simple rites 
performed by these poor savages at the grave of their comrade 
on the shores of a strange land ; and when these were done, 
they rose and returned in silence to the ship, without once 
casting a look behind. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



The Columbia, or Oregon, for the distance of thirty or forty 
tailes from its entrance into the sea, is, properly speaking, a 
mere estuary, indented by deep bays so as to vary from three 
to seven miles in width, and is rendered extremely intricate 
and dangerous by shoals reaching nearly from shore to shore, 
on which, at times, the winds and currents produce foaming 
and tumultuous breakers. The mouth of the river proper is 
but about half a mile wide, formed by the contracting shores 
of the estuary. The entrance from the sea, as we have already 
observed, is bounded on the south side by a flat, sandy spit of 
land stretching into the ocean. This is commonly called Point 
Adams. The opposite or northern side is Cape Disappoint- 
ment, a kind of peninsula, terminating in a steep knoll or 
promontory crowned with a forest of pine trees, and connected 
with the main-land by a low and narrow neck. Immediately 
within this cape is a wide, open bay, terminating at Chinook 
Point, so called from a neighboring tribt, of Indians. This was 
called Baker's Bay, and here the Tonquin was anchored. 

The natives inhabiting the lower part of the river, and with 
whom the company was likely to have the most frequent in- 
tercourse, were divided at this time into four tribes — the 
Chinooks, Clatsops, Wahkiacums, and Cathlamahs. They 
resembled each other in person, dress, language, and manner, 
and were probably from the same stock, but broken into 
tribes, or rather hordes, by those feuds and schisms frequent 
among Indians. 

These people generally live by fishing. It is true they occa- 
sionally hunt the elk and deer, and ensnare the waterfowl of 
their ponds and rivers, but these are casual luxuries. Their 
<3hief subsistence is derived from the salmon and other fish 
which abound in the Columbia and its tributary streams, 



ASTORIA, 71 

aided by roots and herbs, especially the wappatoo, which is 
found on the islands of the river. 

As the Indians of the plains who depend upon the chase are 
bold and expert riders, and pride themselves upon their horses, 
so these piscatory tribes of the coast excel in the management 
of canoes, and are never more at home than when riding upon 
the waves. Their canoes vary in form and size. Some are 
upward of fifty feet long, cut out of a single tree, either fir 01 
white cedar, and capable of carrying thirty persons. They 
have thwart pieces from side to side about three inches thick, 
and their gunwales flare outward, so as to cast off the surges 
of the waves. The bow and stern are decorated with grotesque 
figures of men and animals, sometimes five feet in height. 

In managing their canoes they kneel two and two along the 
bottom, sitting on their heels, and wielding paddles from four 
to five feet long, while one sits on the stern and steers with a 
paddle of the same kind. The women are equally expert with 
the men in managing the canoe, and generally take the helm. 

It is surprising to see with what fearless unconcern these 
savages venture in their light barks upon the roughest and 
most tempestuous seas. They seem 'o ride upon the waves 
like sea-fowl. Should a surge throw the canoe upon its side 
and endanger its overturn, those to windward lean over the 
upper gunwale, thrust their paddles deep into the wave, appa- 
rently catch the water and force it under the canoe, and by 
this action not merely regain an equilibrium, but give their 
bark a vigorous impulse forward. 

The effect of different modes of life upon the human frame 
and human character is strikingly instanced in the contrast 
between the hunting Indians of the prairies and the piscatory 
Indians of the sea-coast. The former, continually on horse- 
back scouring the plains, gaining their food by hardy exercise, 
and subsisting chiefly on flesh, are generally tall, sinewy, 
meagre, but well formed, and of bold and fierce deportment ; 
the latter, lounging about the river banks, or squatting and 
curved up in their canoes, are generally low in stature, ill- 
shaped, with crooked legs, thick ankles, and broad flat feet. 
They are inferior also in muscular power and activity, and in 
game qualities and appearance, to their hard-riding brethren 
of the prairies. 

Having premised these few particulars concerning the neigh- 
boring Indians, we will return to the immediate concerns of 
the Tonquin and her crew, 



72 ASTORIA. 

Further search was made for Mr. Fox and his party, but 
with no better success, and they were at length given up as 
lost. In the mean time the captain and some of the partners 
explored the river for some distance in a large boat, to select a 
suitable place for the trading post. Their old jealousies and 
differences continued ; they never could coincide in their 
choice, and the captain objected altogether to any site so high 
up the river. They all returned, therefore, to Baker's Bay in 
no very good humor. The partners proposed to examine the 
opposite shore, but the captain was impatient of any further 
delay. His eagerness to "get on" had increased upon him. 
He thought all these excursions a sheer loss of time, and was 
resolved to land at once, build a shelter for the reception of 
that part of his cargo destined for the use of the settlement, 
and, having cleared his ship of it and of his irksome ship- 
mates, to depart upon the prosecution of his coasting voyage, 
according to orders. 

On the following day, therefore, without troubling himself 
to consult the partners, he landed in Baker's Bay, and pro- 
ceeded to erect a shed for the reception of the rigging, equip- 
ments, and stores of the schooner that was to be built for the 
use of the settlement. 

This dogged determination on the part of the sturdy captain 
gave high offence to Mr. M'Dougal, who now considered him- 
self at the head of the concern, as Mr. Astor's representative 
and proxy. He set off the same day (April 5th), accompanied 
by Mr. David Stuart, for the southern shore, intending to be 
back by the seventh. Not having the captain to contend with, 
they soon pitched upon a spot which appeared to them favor- 
able for the intended establishment. It was on a point of land 
called Point George, having a very good harbor, where vessels, 
not exceeding two hundred tons burden, might anchor within 
fifty yards of the shore. 

After a day thus profitably spent they recrossed the river, 
but landed on the northern shore several miles above the an 
choring grounds of the Tonquin, in the neighborhood of Chi- 
nooks, and visited the village of that tribe. Here they were 
received with great hospitality by the chief, who was named 
Comcomly, a shrewd old savage, with but one eye, who will 
occasionally figure in this narrative. Each village forms a 
petty sovereignty, governed by its own chief, who, however, 
possesses but little authority, unless he be a man of wealth 
and substance— that is to say, possessed of canoes, slaves and 



ASTORIA. 73 

wives. The greater number of these the greater is the chief. 
How many wives this one-eyed potentate maintained we are 
not told, but he certainly possessed great sway, not merely over 
his own tribe, but over the neighborhood. 

Having mentioned slaves, we would observe that slavery 
exists among several of the tribes beyond the Rocky Moun- 
tains. The slaves are well treated while in good health, but 
occupied in all kinds of drudgery. Should they become use- 
less, however, by sickness or old age, they are totally neglect- 
ed, and left to perish ; nor is any respect paid to their bodies 
after death. 

A singular custom prevails, not merely among the Chinooks, 
but among most of the tribes about this part of the coast, 
which is the flattening of the forehead. The process by which 
this deformity is effected commences immediately after birth. 
The infant is laid in a wooden trough, by way of cradle. The 
end on which the head reposes is higher than the rest. A pad- 
ding is placed on the forehead of the infant, with a piece of bark 
above it, and is pressed down by cords, which pass through 
holes on each side of the trough. As the tightening of the 
padding and the pressing of the head to the board is gradual, 
the process is said not to be attended with much pain. The 
appearance of the infant, however, while in this state of com- 
pression, is whimsically hideous, and "its little black eyes," 
we are told, "being forced out by the tightness of the band- 
ages, resemble those of a mouse choked in a trap." 

About a year's pressure is sufficient to produce the desired 
effect, at the end of which time the child emerges from its 
bandages a complete flathead, and continues so through life. It 
must be noted, however, that this flattening of the head has 
something in it of aristocratical significancy, like the crippling 
of the feet among Chinese ladies of quality. At any rate it is 
a sign of freedom. No slave is permitted to bestow this envi- 
able deformity upon his child; all the slaves, therefore, are 
round-heads. 

With this worthy tribe of Chinooks the two partners passed 
a part of the day very agreeably. M'Dougal, who was some- 
what vain of his official rank, had given it to be understood 
that they were two chiefs of a great trading company, about to 
be established here, and the quick-sighted though one-eyed 
chief, who was somewhat practised in traffic with white men, 
immediately perceived the policy of cultivating the friendship 
of two such important visitors. He regaled them, therefore, to 



74 ASTORIA. 

the best of his ability, with abundance of salmon and wappa 
boo. The next morning, March 7th, they prepared to return to 
the vessel, according to promise. They had eleven miles of 
open bay to traverse ; the wind was fresh, the waves ran high, 
Comcomly remonstrated with them on the hazard to which 
they would be exposed. They were resolute, however, and 
launched their bo^t, while the wary chieftain followed at some 
short distance in his canoe. Scarce had they rode a mile 
when a wa^e broke over their boat and upset it. They were 
in imminent peril of drowning, especially Mr. M'Dougal, who 
could not swim. Comcomly, however, came bounding over 
the waves in his light canoe, and snatched them from a watery 
grave. 

They were taken on shore, and a fire made, at which they 
dried their clothes, after which Comcomly conducted them 
back to his village. Here everything was done that could be 
devised for their entertainment during three days that they 
were detained by bad weather. Comcomly made his people 
perform antics before them ; and his wives and daughters en- 
deavored, by all the soothing and endearing arts of women to 
find favor in their eyes. Some even painted their bodies with 
red clay, and anointed themselves with fish oil, to give addi- 
tional lustre to their charms. Mr. M'Dougal seems to have had a 
heart susceptible to the influence of the gentler sex. Whether 
or no it was first touched on this occasion we do not learn ; but 
it will be found, in the course of this work, that one of the 
daughters of the hospitable Comcomly eventually made a con- 
quest of the great eri of the American Fur Company. 

When the weather had moderated and the sea become tran- 
quil, the one-eyed chief of the Chinooks manned his state 
canoe, and conducted his guests in safety to the ship, where 
they were welcomed with joy, for apprehensions had been felt 
for their safety. Comcomly and his people were then enter- 
tained on board of the Tonquin, and liberally rewarded for 
their hospitality and services. They returned home highly 
satisfied, promising to remain faithful friends and alhes of the 
white men. 



ASTOBfA. 75 



CHAPTEE IX. 

From the report made by the two exploring partners, it 
was determined that Point George should be the site of the 
trading house. These gentlemen, it is true, were not per- 
fectly satisfied with the place, and were desirous of continu- 
ing their search; but Captain Thorn was impatient to land 
his cargo and continue his voyage, and protested against any 
more of what he termed " sporting excursions." 

Accordingly, on the 12th of April the launch was freighted 
with all things necessary for the purpose, and sixteen persons 
leparted in her to commence the establishment, leaving the 
f onquin to follow as soon as the harbor could be sounded. 

Crossing the wide mouth of the river, the party landed, and 
Bncamped at the bottom of a small bay within Point George. 
The situation chosen for the fortified post was on an elevation 
cacing to the north, with the wide estuary, its sand-bars and 
tumultuous breakers spread out before it, and the promontory 
of Cape Disappointment, fifteen miles distant, closing the pros- 
pect to the left. The surrounding country was in all the fresh- 
ness of spring; the trees were in the young leaf, the weather 
was superb, and everything looked delightful to men just 
emancipated from a long confinement on shipboard. The Ton- 
quin shortly afterward made her way through the intricate 
channel, and came to anchor in the little bay, and was saluted 
from the encampment with three volleys of musketry and 
three cheers. She returned the salute with three cheers and 
three guns. 

All hands now set to work cutting down trees, clearing away 
thickets, and marking out the place for the residence, store- 
house, and powder magazine, which were to be built of logs 
and covered with bark. Others landed the timbers intended 
for the frame of the coasting vessel, and proceeded to put 
them together, while others prepared a garden spot, and sowed 
the seeds of various vegetables. 

The next thought was to give a name to the embryo metro- 
polis ; the one that naturally presented itself was that of the 
projector and supporter of the whole enterprise. It was ac- 
cordingly named Astoria. 

The neighboring Indians now swarmed about the place. 



: /6 ASTORIA. 

Some brought a few land-otter and sea-otter skins to barter, 
but in very scanty parcels ; the greater number came prying 
about to gratify their curiosity, for they are said to be imper- 
tinently inquisitive ; while not a few came with no other design 
than to pilfer ; the laws of meum and tuum being but slightly 
respected among them. Some of them beset the ship in their 
canoes among whom was the Chinook chief Comcomly and 
his liege subjects. These were well received by Mr. M'Dougal, 
who was delighted with an opportunity of entering upon his 
functions and acquiring importance in the eyes of his future 
neighbors. The confusion thus produced on board, and the 
derangement of the cargo caused by this petty trade, stirred 
the spleen of the captain, who had a sovereign contempt for 
the one-eyed chieftain and all his crew. He complained loudly 
of having his ship lumbered by a host of u Indian ragamuf- 
fins," who had not a skin to dispose of, and at length put his 
positive interdict upon all trafficking on board. Upon this 
Mr. M'Dougal was fain to land, and establish his quarters at 
the encampment, where he could exercise his rights and enjoy 
his dignities without control. 

The feud, however, between these rival powers still con- 
tinued, but was chiefly carried on by letter. Day after day 
and week after week elapsed, yet the storehouses requisite for 
the reception of the cargo were not completed, and the ship 
was detained in port ; wiiile the captain was teased by frequent 
requisitions for various articles for the use of the establish- 
ment, or the trade with the natives. An angry correspondence 
took place, in which he complained bitterly of the time wasted 
in " smoking and sporting parties," as he termed the recon- 
noitering expeditions, and in clearing and preparing meadow 
ground and turnip patches instead of dispatching his ship. 
At length all these jarring matters were adjusted, if not to the 
satisfaction, at least to the acquiescence of all parties. The 
part of the cargo destined for the use of Astoria was landed, 
and the ship left free to proceed on her voyage. 

As the Tonquin was to coast to the north, to trade for pel- 
tries at the different harbors, and to touch at Astoria on her 
return in the autumn, it was unanimously determined that 
Mr. M'Kay should go in her as supercargo, taking with him 
Mr. Lewis as ship's clerk. On the first of June the ship got 
under way, and dropped down to Baker's Bay, where she was 
detained for a few days by a head wind ; but early in the 
morning of the fifth stood out to sea with a fine breeze and 



ASTORIA. 77 

swelling canvas, and swept off gayly on her fatal voyage, from 
which she was never to return ! 

On reviewing the conduct of Captain Thorn, and examining 
his peevish and somewhat whimsical correspondence, the im- 
pression left upon our mind is upon the whole decidedly in his 
favor. While we smile at the simplicity of his heart and the 
narrowness of his views, which made him regard everything 
out of the direct path of his daily duty, and the rigid exigen- 
cies of the service, as trivial and impertinent, which inspired 
him with contempt for the swelling vanity of some of his coad- 
jutors, and the literary exercises and curious researches of 
others, we cannot but applaud that strict and conscientious 
devotion to the interests of his employer, and to what he con- 
sidered the true objects of the enterprise in which he was 
engaged. He certainly was to blame occasionally for the 
asperity of his manners and the arbitrary nature of his meas- 
ures, yet much that is exceptionable in this part of his con- 
duct may be traced to rigid notions of duty, acquired in that 
tyrannical school, a ship of war, and to the construction given 
by his companions to the orders of Mr. Astor, so little in con- 
formity with his own. His mind, too, appears to have become 
almost diseased by the suspicions he had formed as to the loy- 
alty of his associates and the nature of their ultimate designs ; 
yet on this point there were circumstances to, in some meas- 
ure, justify him. The relations between the United States 
and Great Britain were at that time in a critical state ; in fact, 
the two countries were on the eve of a war. Several of the 
partners were British subjects, and might be ready to desert 
the flag under which they acted, should a war take place. 
Their application to the British minister at New York shows 
the dubious feeling with which they had embarked in the 
present enterprise. They had been in the employ of the 
Northwest Company, and might be disposed to rally again 
under that association, should events threaten the prosperity 
of this embryo establishment of Mr. Astor. Besides, we have 
the fact, averred to us by one of the partners, that some of 
them, who were young and heedless, took a mischievous and 
unwarrantable pleasure in playing upon the jealous temper of 
the captain, and affecting mysterious consultations and sinister 
movements. 

These circumstances a,re cited in palliation of the doubts and 
surmises of Captain Thorn, which might otherwise appear 
strange and unreasonable. That most of the partners were 



78 ASTORIA. 

perfectly upright and faithful in the discharge of the trust 
reposed in them we are fully satisfied ; still the honest captain 
was not invariably wrong in Ms suspicions; and that he 
formed a pretty just opinion of the integrity of that aspiring 
personage, Mr. M'Dougal, will be substantially proved in the 
sequel. 



CHAPTER X. 



While the Astorians were busily occupied in completing 
their factory and fort, a report was brought to them by an 
Indian from the upper part of the river, that a party of thirty 
white men had appeared on the banks of the Columbia, and 
were actually building houses at the second rapids. This in- 
formation caused much disquiet. We have already mentioned 
that the Northwest Company had established posts to the west 
of the Rocky Mountains, in a district called by them New 
Caledonia, which extended from lat. 52° to 55° north, being 
within the British territories. It was now apprehended that 
they were advancing within the American limits, and were 
endeavoring to seize upon the upper part of the river and fore- 
stall the American Fur Company in the surrounding trade ; in 
which case bloody feuds might be anticipated, such as had 
prevailed between the rival fur companies in former days. 

A reconnoitring party was sent up the river to ascertain the 
truth of the report. They ascended to the foot of the first 
rapid, about two hundred miles, but could hear nothing of any 
white men being in the neighborhood. 

Not long after their return, however, further accounts were 
received, by two wandering Indians, which established the 
fact that the Northwest Company had actually erected a trad- 
ing house on the Spokan River, which falls into the north 
branch of the Columbia. 

What rendered this intelligence the more disquieting was 
the inability of the Astorians, in their present reduced state as 
to numbers, and the exigencies of their new establishment, to 
furnish detachments to penetrate the country in different di- 
rections, and fix the posts necessary to secure the interior 
trade. 

It was resolved, however, at any rate, to advance a counter 



ASTOBIA. 79 

check to this post on the Spokan, and one of the partners, Mr. 
David Stuart, prepared to set out for the purpose with eight 
men and a small assortment of goods. He was to be guided by 
the two Indians, who knew the country, and promised to take 
him to a place not far from the Spokan Eiver, and in a neigh- 
borhood abounding with beaver. Here he was to establish 
himself and to remain for a time, provided he found the situa- 
tion advantageous and the natives friendly. 

On the 15th of July, when Mr. Stuart was nearly ready to 
embark, a canoe made its appearance, standing for the narbor, 
and manned by nine white men. Much speculation took place 
who these strangers could be, for it was too soon to expect their 
own people, under Mr. Hunt, who were to cross the continent. 
As the canoe drew near, the British standard was distinguished ; 
on coming to land, one of the crew stepped on shore, and an- 
nounced himself as Mr. David Thompson, astronomer, and 
partner of the Northwest Company. According to his ac- 
count, he had set out in the preceding year with a tolerably 
strong party, and a supply of Indian goods, to cross the Rocky 
Mountains. A part of his people, however, had deserted him 
on the eastern side, and returned with the goods to the nearest 
northwest post. He had persisted in crossing the mountains 
with eight men, who remained true to him. They had trav- 
ersed the higher regions, and ventured near the source of the 
Columbia, where, in the spring, they had constructed a cedar 
canoe, the same in which they had reached Astoria. 

This, in fact, was the party dispatched hj the Northwest 
Company to anticipate Mr. Astor in his intention of effecting a 
settlement at the mouth of the Columbia River. It appears, 
from information subsequently derived from other sources, 
that Mr. Thompson had pushed on his course with great haste, 
calling at all the Indian villages in his march, presenting them 
with British flags, and even planting them at the forks of the 
rivers, proclaiming formally that he took possession of the 
country in the name of the King of Great Britain for the 
Northwest Company. As his original plan was defeated by 
the desertion of his people, it is probable that he descended the 
river simply to reconnoitre, and ascertain whether an Ameri- 
can settlement had been commenced. 

Mr. Thompson was, no doubt, the first white man who de- 
scended the northern branch of the Columbia from so near its 
source. Lewis and Clarke struck the main body of the river 
at the forks, about four hundred miles from its mouth. They 



80 ASTOBIA. 

entered it from Lewis River, its southern branch, and thence 
descended. 

Though Mr. Thompson could be considered as little better 
than a spy in the camp, he was received with great cordiality 
by Mr. M'Dougal, who had a lurking feeling of companionship 
and good- will for all of the Northwest Company. He invited 
him to head-quarters, where he and his people were hospitably 
entertained. Nay, further; being somewhat in extremity, he 
was furnished by Mr. M'Dougal with goods and provisions for 
his journey back across the mountains, much against the 
wishes of Mr. David Stuart, who did not think the object of 
his visit entitled him to any favor. 

On the 23d of July Mr. Stuart set out upon his expedition to 
the interior. His party consisted of four of the clerks, Messrs. 
Pillet, Ross, M'Lennon, and Montigny, two Canadian voya- 
geurs, and two natives of the Sandwich Islands. They had 
three canoes well laden with provisions, and with goods and 
necessaries for a trading establishment. 

Mr. Thompson and his party set out in company with them, 
it being his intention to proceed direct to Montreal. The part- 
ners at Astoria forwarded by him a short letter to Mr. Astor 
informing him of their safe arrival at the mouth of the Colum- 
bia, and that they had not yet heard of Mr. Hunt. The little 
squadron of canoes set sail with a favorable breeze, and soon 
passed Tongue Point, a long, high, and rocky promontory, 
covered with trees, and stretching far into the river. Opposite 
to this, on the northern shore, is a deep bay, where the Colum- 
bia anchored at the time of the discovery, and which is still 
called Gray's Bay, from the name of her commander. 

From hence the general course of the river for about seventy 
miles was nearly southeast, varying in breadth according to 
its bays and indentations, and navigable for vessels of three 
hundred tons. The shores were in some places high and rocky, 
with low, marshy islands at their feet, subject to inundation, 
and covered with willows, poplars, and other trees that love 
an alluvial soil. Sometimes the mountains receded, and gave 
place to beautiful plains and noble forests. While the river 
margin was richly fringed with trees of deciduous foliage, the 
rough uplands were crowned by majestic pines, and firs of 
gigantic size, some towering to the height of between two and 
three hundred feet, with proportionate circumference. Out of 
these the Indians wrought their great canoes and pirogues. 

At one part of the river, they passed, on the northern side, 



ASTORIA. 81 

an isolated rock, about one hundred and fifty feet high, rising 
from a low, marshy soil, and totally disconnected with the ad- 
jacent mountains. This was held in great reverence by the 
neighboring Indians, being one of their principal places of 
sepulture. The same provident care for the deceased that pre- 
vails among the hunting tribes of the prairies is observable 
among the piscatory tribes of the rivers and sea-coast. Among 
the former the favorite horse of the hunter is buried with him 
in the same funereal mound, and his bow and arrows are laid 
by his side, that he may be perfectly equipped for the " happy 
himting grounds" of the land of spirits. Among the latter, 
the Indian is wrapped in his mantle of skins, laid in his canoe, 
with his paddle, his fishing spear, and other implement^ beside 
him, and placed aloft on some rock or other eminence over- 
looking the river, or bay, or lake, that he has frequented. He 
is thus fitted out to launch away upon those placid streams 
and sunny lakes, stocked with all kinds of fish and waterfowl, 
which are prepared in the next world for those who have ac- 
quitted themselves as good sons, good fathers, good husbands, 
and, above all, good fishermen, during their mortal sojourn. 

The isolated rock in question presented a spectacle of the 
kind, numerous dead bodies being deposited in canoes on its 
summit; while on poles around were trophies, or, rather, 
funereal offerings of trinkets, garments, baskets of roots, and 
other articles for the use of the deceased. A reverential feel- 
ing protects these sacred spots from robbery or insult. The 
friends of the deceased, especially the women, repair here at 
sunrise and sunset for some time after his death, singing his 
funeral dirge, and uttering loud wailings and lamentations. 

From the number of dead bodies in canoes observed upon 
this rock by the first explorers of the river, it received the 
name of Mount Coffin, which it continues to bear. 

Beyond this rock they passed the mouth of a river on the 
right bank of the Columbia, which appeared to take its rise in 
a distant mountain covered with snow. The Indian name of 
this river was the Cowleskee. Some miles further on they 
came to the great Columbian valley, so called by Lewis and 
Clarke. It is sixty miles in width, and extends far to the 
south-southeast between parallel ridges of mountains, which 
bound it on the east and west. Through the centre of this 
valley flowed a large and beautiful stream called the Walla- 
mot,* which came wandering for several hundred miles, 

* Pronounced Wallamot, the accent being upon the second syllable. 



82 ASTORIA. 

through a yet unexplored wilderness. The sheltered situation 
of this immense valley had an obvious effect upon the climate. 
It was a region of great beauty and luxuriance, with lakes and 
pools, and green meadows shaded by noble groves. Various 
tribes were said to reside in this valley and along the banks 
of the Wallamot. 

About eight miles above the mouth of the Wallamot the lit 
tie squadron arrived at Vancouver's Point, so called in honor 
of that celebrated voyager by his lieutenant (Broughton) when 
he explored the river. This point is said to present one of the 
most beautiful scenes on the Columbia — a lovely meadow, with 
a silver sheet of limpid water in the centre, enlivened by wild- 
fowl,, a range of hills crowned by forests, while the prospect is 
closed by Mount Hood, a magnificent mountain rising into a 
lofty peak, and covered with snow ; the ultimate landmark of 
the first explorers of the river. 

Point Vancouver is about one hundred miles from Astoria. 
Here the reflux of the tide ceases to be perceptible. To this 
place vessels of two and three hundred tons burden may as- 
cend. The party under the command of Mr. Stuart had been 
three or four days in reaching it, though we have forborne to 
notice their daily progress and nightly encampments. 

From Point Vancouver the river turned toward the north- 
east, and became more contracted and rapid, with occasional 
islands and frequent sand-banks. These islands are furnished 
with a number of ponds, and at certain seasons abound with 
swan, geese, brandts, cranes, gulls, plover, and other wild- 
fowl. The shores, too, are low, and closely wooded, and 
covered with such an undergrowth of vines and rushes as to 
be almost impassable. 

About thirty miles above Point Vancouver the mountains 
again approach on both sides of the river, which is bordered 
by stupendous precipices, covered with the fir and the white 
cedar, and enlivened occasionally by beautiful cascades leap- 
ing from a great height, and sending up wreaths of vapor. 
One of these precipices, or cliffs, is curiously worn by time and 
weather so as to have the appearance of a ruined fortress, with 
towers and battlements beetling high above the river; while 
two small cascades, one hundred and fifty feet in height, pitch 
down from the fissures of the rocks. 

The turbulence and rapidity of the current continually 
augmenting as they advanced, gave the voyagers intimation 
that they were approaching the great obstructions of the river, 



ASTORIA. 83 

and at length they arrived at Strawberry Island, so called by 
Lewis and Clarke, which lies at the foot of the first rapid. As 
this part of the Columbia will be repeatedly mentioned in the 
course of this work, being the scene of some of its incidents, 
we shall give a general description of it in this place. 

The falls or rapids of the Columbia are situated about one 
hundred and eighty miles above the mouth of the river. The 
first is a perpendicular cascade of twenty feet, after which 
there is a swift descent for a mile, between islands of hard 
black rock, to another pitch of eight feet divided by two rocks. 
About two and a half miles below this the river expands into a 
wide basin, seemingly dammed up by a perpendicular ridge of 
black rock. A current, however, sets diagonally to the left of 
this rocky barrier, where there is a chasm forty-five yards in 
width. Through this the whole body of the river roars along, 
swelling and whirling and boiling for some distance in the 
wildest confusion. Through this tremendous channel, the in- 
trepid explorers of the river, Lewis and Clarke, passed safely 
in their boats ; the danger being, not from the rocks, but from 
the great surges and whirlpools. 

At the distance of a mile and a half from the foot of this 
narrow channel is a rapid, formed by two rocky islands ; and 
two miles beyond is a second great fall, over a ledge of rocks 
twenty feet high, extending nearly from shore to shore. The 
river is again compressed into a channel from fifty to a hun- 
dred feet wide, worn through a rough bed of hard black rock, 
along which it boils and roars with great fury for the distance 
of three miles. This is called " The Long Narrows." 

Here is the great fishing place of the Columbia. In the spring 
of the year, when the water is high, the salmon ascend the river 
in incredible numbers. As they pass through this narrow 
strait, the Indians, standing on the rocks, or on the end of 
wooden stages projecting from the banks, scoop them up with 
small nets distended on hoops and attached to long handles, 
and cast them on the shore. 

They are then cured and packed in a peculiar manner. 
After having been opened and disembowelled, they are ex- 
posed to the sun on scaffolds erected on the river banks. 
When sufficiently dry, they are pounded fine between two 
stones, pressed into the smallest compass, and packed in 
baskets or bales of grass matting, about two feet long and one 
in diameter, fined with the cured skin of a salmon. The top 
is likewise covered with fish-skins, secured by cords passing 



84 ASTORIA. 

through holes in the edge of the basket. Packages are then 
made, each containing twelve of these bales, seven at bottom, 
five at top, pressed close to each other, with the corded side 
upward, wrapped in mats and corded. These are placed in 
dry situations, and again covered with matting. Each of 
these packages contains from ninety to a hundred pounds of 
dried fish, which in this state will keep sound for several 
years.* 

We have given this process at some length, as furnished by 
the first explorers, because it marks a practised ingenuity in 
preparing articles of traffic for a market, seldom seen among 
our aboriginals. For like reasons we would make especial 
mention of the village of Wish-ram, at the head of the Long 
Narrows, as being a solitary instance of an aboriginal trading 
mart, or emporium. Here the salmon caught in the neighbor- 
ing rapids were " warehoused, " to await customers. Hither 
the tribes from the mouth of the Columbia repaired with the 
fish of the sea-coast, the roots, berries, and especially the wap- 
patoo, gathered in the lower parts of the river, together with 
goods and trinkets obtained from the ships which casually visit 
the coast. Hither also the tribes from the Eocky Mountains 
brought down horses, bear-grass, quamash, and other com- 
modities of the interior. The merchant fishermen art; the falls 
acted as middlemen or factors, and passed the objects of 
traffic, as it were, cross-handed: trading away part of the 
wares received from the mountain tribes to those of the river 
and the plains, and vice versa: their packages of pounded 
salmon entered largely into the system of barter, and being 
carried off in opposite directions found their way to the savage 
hunting camps far in the interior, and to the casual white 
traders who touched upon the coast. 

We have already noticed certain contrarieties of character 
between the Indian tribes, produced by their diet and mode of 
life; and nowhere are they more apparent than about the falls 
of the Columbia. The Indians of this great fishing mart are 
represented by the earliest explorers as sleeker and fatter, but 
less hardy and active, than the tribes of the mountains and 
the prairies, who live by hunting, or of the upper parts of the 
river, where fish is scanty and the inhabitants must eke out 
flieir subsistence by digging roots or chasing the deer. In- 
deed, whenever an Indian of the upper country is too lazy to 

* Lewis ancL Clarke, vol. ii. p. 32. 



ASTORIA. 85 

hunt, yet is fond of good living, he repairs to the falls, to live 
in abundance without labor. 

"By such worthless dogs as these," says an honest trader in 
his journal, which now lies before us, "by such worthless 
dogs as these are these noted fishing places peopled, which, 
like our great cities, may with propriety be called the head- 
quarters of vitiated principles." 

The habits of trade and the avidity of gain have their cor- 
rupting effects even in the wilderness, as may be instanced in 
the members of this aboriginal emporium; for the same 
journalist denounces them as "saucy, impudent rascals," who 
will steal when they can, and pillage whenever a weak party 
falls in their power." 

That he does not belie them will be evidenced hereafter, when 
we have occasion again to touch at Wish-ram and navigate 
the rapids. In the present instance the travellers effected the 
laborious ascent of this part of the river, with all its various 
portages, without molestation, and once more launched away 
in smooth water above the high falls. 

The two parties continued together without material impedi- 
ment, for three or four hundred miles further up the Colum- 
bia; Mr. Thompson appearing to take great interest in the 
success of Mr. Stuart, and pointing out places favorable, as 
he said, to the establishment of his contemplated trading post. 

Mr. Stuart who distrusted his sincerity, at length pretended 
to adopt his advice, and, taking leave of him, remained as if 
to establish himself , while the other proceeded on his course 
toward the mountains. No sooner, however, had he fairly de- 
parted than Mr. Stuart again pushed forward, under guidance 
of the two Indians, nor did he stop until he had arrived within 
about one hundred and forty miles of the Spokan Eiver, which 
he considered near enough to keep the rival establishment in 
check. 

The place which he pitched upon for his trading post was a 
point of land about three miles in length and two in breadth, 
formed by the junction of the Oakinagan with the Columbia. 
The former is a river which has its source in a considerable 
lake about one hundred and fifty miles west of the point of 
junction. The two rivers, about the place of their confluence, 
are bordered by immense prairies covered with herbage but 
destitute of trees. The point itself was ornamented with wild 
flowers of every hue, in which innumerable humming-birds 
were "banqueting nearly the live-long day." 



86 ASTOETA. 

The situation of this point appeared to be well adapted fo* 
a trading post. The climate was salubrious, the soil fertile, 
the rivers well stocked with fish, the natives peaceable and 
friendly. There were easy communications with the interior 
by the upper waters of the Columbia and the lateral stream 
of the Oakinagan, while the downward current of the Colum- 
bia furnished a highway to Astoria. 

Availing himself, therefore, of the driftwood which had 
collected in quantities in the neighboring bends of the river, 
Mr. Stuart and his men set to work to erect a house, which in 
a little while was sufficiently completed for their residence ; 
and thus was established the first interior post of the com- 
pany. We will now return to notice the progress of affairs at 
the mouth of the Columbia. 



CHAPTER XI, 



The sailing of the Tonquin, and the departure of Mr. David 
Stuart and his detachment, had produced a striking effect on 
affairs at Astoria. The natives who had swarmed about the 
place began immediately to drop off, until at length not an 
Indian was to be seen. This, at first, was attributed to the 
want of peltries with which to trade ; but in a little while the 
mystery was explained in a more alarming manner. A con- 
spiracy was said to be on foot among the neighboring tribes 
to make a combined attack upon the white men, now that 
they were so reduced in number. For this purpose there had 
been a gathering of warriors in a neighboring bay, under pre- 
text of fishing for sturgeon; and fleets of canoes were expected 
to join them from the north and south. Even Comcomly, the 
one-eyed chief, notwithstanding his professed friendship for 
Mr. M'Dougal, was strongly suspected of being concerned in 
this general combination. 

Alarmed at rumors of this impending danger, the Astorians 
suspended their regular labor, and set to work, with all haste, 
to throw up temporary works for refuge and defence. In the 
course of a few days they surrounded their dwelling-house and 
magazines with a picket fence ninety feet square, flanked by 
two bastions, on which were mounted four four-pounders. 
Every day they exercised themselves in the use of their wea 



ASTOBTA. 87 

pons, so as to qualify themselves for military duty, and at 
night ensconced themselves in their fortress and posted senti- 
nels, to guard against surprise. In this way they hoped, even 
in case of attack, to be able to hold out until the arrival of the 
party to be conducted by Mr. Hunt across the Rocky Moun- 
tains, or until the return of the Tonquin. The latter depen- 
dence, however, was doomed soon to be destroyed. Early in 
August a wandering band of savages from the Strait of Juan 
de Fuca made their appearance at the mouth of the Columbia, 
where they came to fish for sturgeon. They brought disas- 
trous accounts of the Tonquin, which were at first treated as 
mere fables, but which were too sadly confirmed by a different 
tribe that arrived a few days subsequently. We shall relate 
the circumstances of this melancholy affair as correctly as the 
casual discrepancies in the statements that have reached us 
will permit. 

We have already stated that the Tonquin set sail from the 
mouth of the river on the fifth of June. The whole number of 
persons on board amounted to twenty-three. In one of the 
outer bays they picked up, from a fishing canoe, an Indian 
named Lamazee, who had already made two voyages along 
the coast, and knew something of the language of the various 
tribes. He agreed to accompany them as interpreter. 

Steering to the north, Captain Thorn arrived in a few days 
at Vancouver's Island, and anchored in the harbor of Newee- 
tee, very much against the advice of his Indian interpreter, 
who warned him against the perfidious character of the na- 
tives of this part of the coast. Numbers of canoes soon came 
off, bringing sea-otter skins to sell. It was too late in the day 
to commence a traffic, but Mr. M'Kay, accompanied by a few 
of the men, went on shore to a large village to visit Wicana- 
nish, the chief of the surrounding territory, six of the natives 
remaining on board as hostages. He was received with great 
professions of friendship, entertained hospitably, and a couch 
of sea-otter skins was prepared for him in the dwelling of the 
chieftain, where he was prevailed upon to pass the night. 

In the morning before Mr. M'Kay had returned to the ship, 
great numbers of the natives came off in their canoes to trade, 
headed by two sons of Wicananish. As they brought abun- 
dance of sea-otter skins, and there was every appearance of a 
brisk trade, Captain Thorn did not wait for the return of Mr. 
M'Kay, but spread his wares upon deck, making a tempting 
display of blankets, cloths, knives, beads, and fish-hooks, ex- 



88 ASTORIA. 

pecting a prompt and profitable sale. The Indians, however, 
were not so eager and simple as he had supposed, having 
learned the art of bargaining and the value of merchandise 
from the casual traders along the coast. They were guided, 
too, by a shrewd old chief named Nookamis, who had grown 
gray in traffic with New England skippers, and prided himself 
upon his acuteness. His opinion seemed to regulate the mar- 
ket. When Captain Thorn made what he considered a liberal 
offer for an otter-skin, the wily old Indian treated it with 
scorn, and asked more than double. His comrades all took 
their cue from him, and not an otter-skin was to be had at a 
reasonable rate. 

The old fellow, however, overshot his mark, and mistook the 
character of the man he was treating with. Thorn was a 
plain, straightforward sailor, who never had two minds nor 
two prices in his dealings, was deficient in patience and pli- 
ancy, and totally wanting in the chicanery of traffic. He had 
a vast deal of stern but honest pride in his nature, and, more- 
over, held the whole savage race in sovereign contempt. 
Abandoning all further attempts, therefore, to bargain with his 
shuffling customers, he thrust his hands into his pockets, and 
paced up and down the deck in sullen silence. The cunning 
old Indian followed him to and fro, holding out a sea-otter 
skin to him at every turn, and pestering him to trade. Find- 
ing other means unavailing, he suddenly changed his tone, 
and began to jeer and banter him upon the mean prices he 
offered. This was too much for the patience of the captain, 
who was never remarkable for relishing a joke, especially 
when at his own expense. Turning suddenly upon his per- 
secutor, he snatched the proffered otter-skin from his hands, 
rubbed it in his face, and dismissed him over the side of the 
ship with no very complimentary application to accelerate his 
exit. He then kicked the peltries to the right and left about 
the deck, and broke up the market in the most ignominious 
manner. Old Nookamis made for shore in a furious passion, 
in which he was joined by She wish, one of the sons of Wicana- 
nish, who went off breathing vengeance, and the ship was 
soon abandoned by the natives. 

When Mr. M'Kay returned on board, the interpreter related 
what had passed, and begged him to prevail upon the captain 
to make sail, as, from his knowledge of the temper and pride 
of the people of the place, he was sure they would resent the 
indignity offered to one of their chiefs. Mr. M'Kay, who him- 



ASTORIA. gg 

self possessed some experience of Indian character, went to 
the captain, who was still pacing the deck in moody humor, 
represented the danger to which his hasty act had exposed the 
vessel, and urged him to weigh anchor. The captain made 
light of his counsels, and pointed to his cannon and firearms as 
a sufficient safeguard against naked savages. Further remon- 
strances only provoked taunting replies and sharp altercations. 
The day passed away without any signs of hostility, and at 
night the captain retired as usual to his cabin, taking no more 
than the usual precautions. 

On the following morning, at daybreak, while the captain 
and Mr. M'Kay were yet asleep, a canoe came alongside, in 
which were twenty Indians, commanded by young She wish. 
They were unarmed, their aspect and demeanor friendly, and 
they held up otter-skins, and made signs indicative of a wish 
to trade. The caution enjoined by Mr. Astor, in respect to the 
admission of Indians on board of the ship had been neglected 
for some time past, ^ and the officer of the watch, perceiving 
those in the canoe to be without weapons, and having re- 
ceived no orders to the contrary, readily permitted them to 
mount the deck. Another canoe soon succeeded, the crew of 
which was likewise admitted. In a little while other canoes 
came off, and Indians were soon clambering into the vessel on 
all sides. 

The officer of the watch now felt alarmed, and called to Cap- 
iain Thorn and Mr. M'Kay. By the time they came on deck, 
it was thronged with Indians. The interpreter noticed to Mr. 
M'Kay that many of the natives wore short mantles of skins, 
and intimated a suspicion that they were secretly armed. Mr. 
M'Kay urged the captain to clear the ship and get under way. 
He again made light of the advice, but the augmented swarm 
of canoes about the ship, and the numbers still putting off from 
shore, at length awakened his distrust, and he ordered some of 
the crew to weigh anchor, while some were sent aloft to make 
sail. 

The Indians now offered to trade with the captain on his own 
terms-, prompted, apparently, by the approaching departure of 
the ship. Accordingly, a hurried trade was commenced. The 
main articles sought by the savages in barter, were knives ; as 
fast as some were supplied they moved off, and others suc- 
ceeded. By degrees they were thus distributed about the deck, 
and all with weapons. 

The anchor was now nearly up, the sails were loose, and the 



50 ASTORIA. 

captain, in a loud and peremptory tone, ordered the ship to be 
cleared. In an instant a signal yell was given : it was echoed 
on every side, knives and war-clubs were brandished in every 
direction, and the savages rushed upon their marked victims. 

The first that fell was Mr. Lewis, the ship's clerk. He was 
leaning, with folded arms, over a bale of blankets, engaged in 
bargaining, when he received a deadly stab in the back, and 
fell down the companion-way. 

Mr. M'Kay, who was seated on the taffrail, sprang on his 
feet, but was instantly knocked down with a war-club and 
flung backward into the sea, where he was dispatched by the 
women in the canoes. 

In the mean time Captain Thorn made desperate fight 
against fearful odds. He was a powerful as well as a resolute 
man, but he had come upon deck without weapons. Shewish, 
the young chief, singled him out as his peculiar prey, and 
rushed upon him at the first outbreak. The captain had barely 
time to draw a clasp-knife, with one blow of which he laid the 
young savage dead at his feet. Several of the stoutest follow- 
ers of Shewish now set upon him. He defended himself vigor- 
ously, dealing crippling blows to right and left, and strewing 
the quarter-deck with the slain and wounded. His object was 
to fight his way to the cabin, where there were firearms ; but 
he was hemmed in with foes, covered with wounds, and faint 
with loss of blood. For an instant he leaned upon the tiller 
wheel, when a blow from behind, with a war-club, felled him 
to the deck, where he was dispatched with knives and thrown 
overboard. 

While this was transacting upon the quarter-deck, a chance- 
medley fight was going on throughout the ship. The crew 
fought desperately with knives, handspikes, and whatever 
weapon they could seize upon in the moment of surprise. 
They were soon, however, overpowered by numbers, and 
mercilessly butchered. 

As to the seven who had been sent aloft to make sail, they 
contemplated with horror the carnage that was going on below. 
Being destitute of weapons, they let themselves down by the 
running rigging, in hopes of getting between decks. One fell 
in the attempt, and was instantly dispatched ; another received 
a death-blow in the back as he was descending; a third, 
Stephen Weekes, the armorer, was mortally wounded as he 
vas getting down the hatchway, 
the remaining four made good their retreat into the cabii? 



ASTOBIA. 91 

where they found Mr. Lewis, still alive, though mortally 
wounded. Barricading the cabin door, they broke holes 
through the companion-way, and, with the muskets and am- 
munition which were at hand, opened a brisk fire that soon 
cleared the deck, 

Thus far the Indian interpreter, from whom these particulars 
are derived, had been an eye-witness of the deadly conflict. 
He had taken no part in it, and had been spared by the natives 
as being of their race. In the confusion of the moment he took 
refuge with the rest, in the canoes. The survivors of the crew 
now sallied forth, and discharged some of the deck guns, which 
did great execution among the canoes, and drove all the savages 
to shore. 

For the remainder of the day no one ventured to put off to 
the ship, deterred by the effects of the firearms. The night 
passed away without any further attempt on the part of the 
natives. When the day dawned, the Tonquin still lay at 
anchor in the bay, her sails all loose and flapping in the wind, 
and no one apparently on board of her. After a time, some of 
:he canoes ventured forth to reconnoitre, taking with them the 
interpreter. • They paddled about her, keeping cautiously at a 
distance, but growing more and more emboldened at seeing 
her quiet and lifeless. One man at length made his appearance 
on the deck, and was recognized by the interpreter as Mr. 
Lewis. He made friendly signs, and invited them on board. 
It was long before they ventured to comply. Those who 
mounted the deck met with no opposition ; no one was to be 
seen on board ; for Mr. Lewis, after inviting them, had disap- 
peared. Other canoes now pressed forward to board the prize; 
the decks were soon crowded, and the sides covered with clam- 
bering savages, all intent on plunder. In the midst of their 
eagerness and exultation, the ship blew up with a tremendous 
explosion. Arms, legs, and mutilated bodies were blown into 
the air, and dreadful havoc was made in the surrounding ca- 
noes. The interpreter was in the main-chains at the time of 
the explosion, and was thrown unhurt into the water, where 
he succeeded in getting into one of the canoes. According to 
his statement, the bay presented an awful spectacle after the 
catastrophe. The ship had disappeared, but the bay was 
covered with fragments of the wreck, with shattered canoes, 
and Indians swimming for their lives, or struggling in the ago- 
nies of death; while those who had escaped the danger re- 
mained aghast and stupefied, or made with frantic panic for 



92 ASTORIA. 

the shore. Upward of a hundred savages were destroyed by 
the explosion, many more were shockingly mutilated, and for 
days afterward the limbs and bodies of the slain were thrown 
upon the beach. 

The inhabitants of Neweetee were overwhelmed with con- 
sternation at this astounding calamity, which had burst upon 
them in the very moment of triumph. The warriors sat mute 
and mournful, while the women filled the air with loud 
lamentations. Their weeping and wailing, however, was sud- 
denly changed into yells of fury at the sight of four unfortu- 
nate white men, brought captive into the village. They had 
been driven on shore in one of the ship's boats, and taken at 
some distance along the coast. 

The interpreter was permitted to converse with them. They 
proved to be the four brave fellows who had made such despe- 
rate defence from the cabin. The interpreter gathered from 
them some of the particulars already related. They told him 
further, that, after they had beaten off the enemy, and cleared 
the ship, Lewis advised that they should slip the cable and en- 
deavor to get to sea. They declined to take his advice, alleg- 
ing that the wind set too strongly into the bay,- and would 
drive them on shore. They resolved, as soon as it was dark, 
to put off quietly in the ship's boat, which they would be able 
to do unperceived, and to coast along back to Astoria. They 
put their resolution into effect ; but Lewis refused to accompany 
them, being disabled by his wound, hopeless of escape, and de- 
termined on a terrible revenge. On the voyage out, he had re- 
peatedly expressed a presentiment that he should die by his 
own hands; thinking it highly probable that he should be en- 
gaged in some contest with the natives, and being resolved, in 
case of extremity, to commit suicide rather than be made a 
prisoner. He now declared his intention to remain on board 
of the ship until daylight, to decoy as many of the savages on 
board as possible, then to set fire to the powder magazine, and 
terminate his life by a signal act of vengeance. How well he 
succeeded has been shown. His companions bade him a mel- 
ancholy adieu, and set off on their precarious expedition. 
They strove with might and main to get out of the bay, but 
found it impossible to weather a point of land, and were at 
length compelled to take shelter in a small cove, where they 
hoped to remain concealed until the wind should be more 
favorable. Exhausted by fatigue and watching, they fell into 
a sound sleep, and in that state were surprised by the savages. 



ASTORIA. 93 

Better had it been for those unfortunate men had they remained 
with Lewis, and shared his heroic death : as it was, they per- 
ished in a more painful and protracted manner, being sacrificed 
by the natives to the manes of their friends with all the linger- 
ing tortures of savage cruelty. Some time after their death, 
the interpreter, who had remained a kind of prisoner at large, 
effected his escape, and brought the tragical tidings to Astoria. 

Such is the melancholy story of the Tonquin, and such was 
the fate of her brave but headstrong* commander, and her ad- 
venturous crew. It is a catastrophe that shows the impor 
tance, in all enterprises of moment, to keep in mind the general 
instructions of the sagacious heads which devise them. Mr. 
Astor was well aware of the perils to which ships were exposed 
on this coast from quarrels with the natives, and from perfidi- 
ous attempts of the latter to surprise and capture them in un- 
guarded moments. He had repeatedly enjoined it upon Cap- 
tain Thorn, in conversation, and at parting, in his letter of 
instructions, to be courteous and kind in his dealings with the 
savages, but by no means to confide in their apparent friend- 
ship, nor to admit more than a few on hoard of his ship at a 
time. 

Had the deportment of Captain Thorn been properly regu- 
lated, the insult so wounding to savage pride would never 
have been given. Had he enforced the rule to admit but a 
few at a time, the savages would not have been able to get the 
mastery. He was too irritable, however, to practise the nec- 
essary self-command, and, having been nurtured in a proud 
contempt of danger, thought it beneath him to manifest any 
fear of a crew of unarmed savages. 

"With all his faults and foibles, we cannot but speak of him 
with esteem, and deplore his untimely fate ; for we remember 
him well in early life, as a companion in pleasant scenes and 
joyous hours. When on shore, among his friends, he was a 
frank, manly, sound-hearted sailor. On board ship he evi- 
dently assumed the hardness of deportment and sternness 
of demeanor which many deem essential to naval service. 
Throughout the whole of the expedition, however, he showed 
himself loyal, single-minded, straightforward, and fearless; 
and if the fate of his vessel may be charged to his harshness 
and imprudence, we should recollect that he paid for his error 
with Ms fife. 

The loss of the Tonquin was a grievous blow to the infant 
Bsta-blishment of Astoria, and one that threatened to bring 



94 AST OBI A. 

after it a train of disasters. The intelligence of it did not reach 
Mr. Astor until many months afterward. He felt it in all its 
force, and was aware that it must cripple, if not entirely de- 
feat, the great scheme of his ambition. In his letters, written 
at the time, he speaks of it as " a calamity, the length of which 
he could not foresee." He indulged, however, in no weak and 
vain lamentation, but sought to devise a prompt and efficient 
remedy. The very same evening he appeared at the theatre 
with his usual serenity 6i countenance. A friend, who knew 
the disastrous intelligence he had received, expressed his as- 
tonishment that he could have calmness of spirit sufficient for 
such a scene of light amusement. "What would you have 
me do?" was his characteristic reply; "would you have me 
stay at home and weep for what I cannot help ?" 



CHAPTEE XII. 



The tidings of the loss of the Tonquin, and the massacre of 
her crew, struck dismay into the hearts of the Astorians. 
They found themselves a mere handful of men, on a savage 
coast, surrounded by hostile tribes, who would doubtless be 
incited and encouraged to deeds of violence by the late fearful 
catastrophe. In this juncture Mr. M'Dougal, we are told, had 
recourse to a stratagem by which to avail himself of the igno- 
rance and credulity of the savages, and which certainly does 
credit to his ingenuity. 

The natives of the coast, and, indeed, of all the regions west 
of the mountains, had an extreme dread of the smallpox, that 
terrific scourge having, a few years previously, appeared 
among them and almost swept off entire tribes. Its origin 
and nature were wrapped in mystery, and they conceived it 
an evil inflicted upon them by the Great Spirit, or brought 
among them by the white men. The last idea was seized upon 
by Mr. M'Dougal. He assembled several of the chieftains 
whom he believed to be in the conspiracy. When they were 
all seated around, he informed them that he had heard of the 
treachery of some of their northern brethren toward the Ton- 
quin, and was determined on vengeance. "The white men 
among you," said he, " are few in number, it is true, but they 
are mighty in medicine. See here," continued he, drawing 



ASTORIA. 95 

forth a small bottle and holding it before their eyes, " in this 
bottle I hold the smallpox, safely corked up; I have but to 
draw the cork, and let loose the pestilence, to sweep man, 
woman, and child from the face of the earth." 

The chiefs were struck with horror and alarm. They im- 
plored him not to uncork the bottle, since they and all their 
people were firm friends of the white men, and would always 
remain so ; but, should the smallpox be once let out, it would 
run like wildfire throughout the country, sweeping off the 
good as well as the bad, and surely he would not be so unjust 
as to punish his friends for crimes committed by his enemies. 

Mr. M'Dougal pretended to be convinced by their reasoning, 
and assured them that, so long as the white people should be 
unmolested, and the conduct of their Indian neighbors friendly 
and hospitable, the phial of wrath should remain sealed up; 
but, on the least hostility, the fatal cork should be drawn. 

From this time, it is added, he was much dreaded by the 
natives, as one who held their fate in his hands, and was 
called, by way of pre-eminence, "the Great Smallpox Chief." 

All this while, the labors at the infant settlement went on 
with unremitting assiduity, and, by the 26th of September a 
commodious mansion, spacious enough to accommodate all 
hands, was completed. It was built of stone and clay, there 
being no calcareous stone in the neighborhood from which 
lime for mortar could be procured. The schooner was also 
finished, and launched, with the accustomed ceremony, on the 
second of October, and took her station below the fort. She 
was named the Dolly, and was the first American vessel 
launched on this coast. 

On the 5th of October, in the evening, the little community 
at Astoria was enlivened by the unexpected arrival of a de- 
tachment from Mr. David Stuart's post on the Oakinagan. It 
consisted of two of the clerks and two of the privates. They 
brought favorable accounts of the new establishment, but re- 
ported that, as Mr. Stuart was apprehensive there might be a 
difficulty of subsisting his whole party throughout the winter, 
he had sent one half back to Astoria, retaining with him only 
Eoss, Montigny, and two others. Such is the hardihood of the 
Indian trader. In the heart of a savage and unknown coun- 
try, seven hundred miles from the main body of his fellow- 
adventurers, Stuart had dismissed half of his little number, 
and was prepared with the residue to brave all the perils of 
the wilderness, and the rigors of a long and dreary winter. 



96 ASTOBTA. 

With the return party came a Canadian Creole named Re- 
gis Brugiere, and an Iroquois hunter, with his wife and two 
children. As these two personages belong to certain classes 
which have derived their peculiar characteristics from the fur 
trade, we deem some few particulars concerning them perti- 
nent to the nature of this work. 

Brugiere was of a class of beaver trappers and hunters tech- 
nically called freemen, in the language of the traders. They 
are generally Canadians by birth, and of French descent, who 
have been employed for a term of years by some fur company, 
but, their term being expired, continue to hunt and trap on 
their own account, trading with the company like the Indians. 
Hence they derive their appellation of freemen, to distinguish 
them from the trappers who are bound for a number of years, 
and receive wages, or hunt on shares. 

Having passed their early youth in the wilderness, sepa- 
rated almost entirely from civilized man, and in frequent inter- 
course with the Indians, they relapse, with a facility common 
to human nature, into the habitudes of savage life. Though 
no longer bound by engagements to continue in the interior, 
they have become so accustomed to the freedom of the forest 
and the prairie, that they look back with repugnance upon the 
restraints of civilization. Most of them intermarry with the 
natives, and, like the latter, have often a plurality of wives. 
Wanderers of the wilderness, according to the vicissitudes of 
the seasons, the migrations of animals, and the plenty or scar- 
city of game, they lead a precarious and unsettled existence ; 
exposed to sun and storm and all kinds of hardships, until 
they resemble Indians in complexion as well as in tastes and 
habits. From time to time they bring the peltries they have 
collected to the trading houses of the company in whose em- 
ploy they have been brought up. Here they traffic them 
away for such articles of merchandise or ammunition as they 
may stand in need of. At the time when Montreal was the 
great emporium of the fur trader, one of these freemen of the 
wilderness would suddenly return, after an absence of many 
years, among his old friends and comrades. He would be 
greeted as one risen from the dead ; and with the greater wel- 
come, as he returned flush of money. A short time, however, 
spent in revelry would be sufficient to drain his purse and sate 
him with civilized life, and he would return with new relish to 
the unshackled freedom of the forest. 

Numbers of men of this class were scattered throughout 



ASTORIA, 97 

the northwest territories. Some of them retained a little of 
the thrift and forethought of the civilized man, and became 
wealthy among their improvident neighbors ; their wealth be- 
ing chiefly displayed in large bands of horses, which covered 
the prairies in the vicinity of their abodes. Most of them, 
however, were prone to assimilate to the red man in their 
heedlessness of the future. 

Such was Eegis Brugiere, a freeman and rover of the wilder- 
ness. Having been brought up in the service of the Northwest 
Company, he had followed in the train of one of its expeditions 
across the Rocky Mountains, and undertaken to trap for the 
trading post established on the Spokan River. In the course 
of his hunting excursions he had either accidentally, or design- 
edly, found his way to the post of Mr. Stuart, and been pre- 
vailed upon to descend the Columbia, and "try his luck" at 
Astoria. 

Ignace Shonowane, the Iroquois hunter, was a specimen of 
a different class. He was one of those aboriginals of Canada 
who had partially conformed to the habits of civilization, and 
the doctrines of Christianity, under the influence of the French 
colonists and the Catholic priests ; who seem generally to have 
been more successful in conciliating, taming, and converting 
the savages, than their English and Protestant rivals. These 
half -civilized Indians retained some of the good and many of 
the evil qualities of their original stock. They were first-rate 
hunters, and dexterous in the management of the canoe. 
They could undergo great privations, and were admirable for 
the service of the rivers, lakes, and forests, provided they 
could be kept sober, and in proper subordination; but, once 
inflamed with liquor, to which they were madly addicted, all 
the dormant passions inherent in their nature were prone to 
break forth, and to hurry them into the most vindictive and 
bloody acts of violence. 

Though they generally professed the Roman Catholic reli- 
gion, yet it was mixed, occasionally, with some of their ancient 
superstitions ; and they retained much of the Indian belief in 
charms and omens. Numbers of these men were employed by 
the Northwest Company as trappers, hunters, and canoe-men, 
but on lower terms than were allowed to white men. Ignace 
Shonowane had, in this way, followed the enterprise of the 
company to the banks of the Spokan, being, probably, one of 
the first of his tribe that had traversed the Rocky Mountains. 

Such were some of the motley populace of the wilderness, 



98 ASTOBIA. 

incident to the fur trade, who were gradually attracted to the 
new settlement of Astoria. 

The month of October now began to give indications of 
approaching winter. Hitherto the colonists had been well 
pleased with the climate. The summer had been temperate, 
the mercury never rising above eighty degrees. Westerly 
winds had prevailed during the spring and the early part of 
summer, and been succeeded by fresh breezes fi:om the north- 
west. In the month of October the southerly winds set in, 
bringing with them frequent rain. 

The Indians now began to quit the borders of the ocean, and 
to retire to their winter quarters in the sheltered bosom of the 
forests, or along the small rivers and brooks. The rainy sea- 
son, which commences in October, continues, with little inter- 
mission, until April; and though the winters are generally 
mild, the mercury seldom sinking below the freezing point, 
yet the tempests of wind and rain are terrible. The sun is 
sometimes obscured for weeks, the brooks swell into roaring 
torrents, and the country is threatened with a deluge. 

The departure of the Indians to their winter quarters gradu- 
ally rendered provisions scanty, and obliged the colonists to 
send out foraging expeditions in the Dolly. Still, the little 
handful of adventurers kept up their spirits in their lonely fort 
at Astoria, looking forward to the time when they should be 
animated and reinforced by the party under Mr. Hunt, that 
was to come to them across the Eocky Mountains. 

The year gradually wore away. The rain, which had poured 
down almost incessantly since the first of October, cleared up 
toward the evening of the 31st of December, and the morning 
of the first of January ushered in a day of sunshine. 

The hereditary French holiday spirit of the Canadian voy- 
ageurs is hardly to be depressed by any adversities ; and they 
can manage to get up a, fete in the most squalid situations, and 
under the most untoward circumstances. An extra allowance 
of rum, and a little flour to make cakes and puddings, consti- 
tute a " regale;" and they forget all their toils and troubles in 
the song and dance. 

On the present occasion the partners endeavored to celebrate 
the new year with some efPect. At sunrise the drums beat to 
arms, the colors were hoisted with three rounds of smallarms 
and three discharges of cannon. The day was devoted to games 
of agility and strength, and other amusements ; and grog was 
temperately distributed, together with bread, butter, and 



ASTORIA. 99 

cheese. The best dinner their circumstances could afford was 
served up at midday. At sunset the colors were lowered, with 
another discharge of artillery. The night was spent in danc- 
ing ; and, though there was a lack of female partners to excite 
their gallantry, the voyageurs kept up the ball, with true 
French spirit, until three o'clock in the morning. So passed 
the new year festival of 1812 at the infant colony of Astoria. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



We have followed up the fortunes of the maritime part of 
this enterprise to the shores of the Pacific, and have conducted 
the affairs of the embryo establishment to the opening of the 
new year ; let us now turn back to the adventurous band to 
whom was intrusted the land expedition, and who were to 
make their way to the mouth of the Columbia, up vast rivers, 
across trackless ^plains, and over the rugged barriers of the 
Rocky Mountains. 

The conduct of this expedition, as has been already men- 
tioned, was assigned to Mr. Wilson Price Hunt, of Trenton, 
New Jersey, one of the partners of the company, who was 
ultimately to be at the head of the establishment at the mouth 
of the Columbia. He is represented as a man scrupulously 
upright and faithful in his dealings, amicable in his disposi- 
tion, and of most accommodating manners; and his whole 
conduct will be found in unison with such a character. He 
was not practically experienced in the Indian trade ; that is to 
say, he had never made any expeditions of traffic into the 
heart of the wilderness, but he had been engaged in commerce 
at St. Louis, then a frontier settlement on the Mississippi, 
where the chief branch of his business had consisted in fur- 
nishing Indian traders with goods and equipments. In this 
way he had acquired much knowledge of the trade at second 
hand, and of the various tribes, and the interior country over 
which it extended. 

Another of the partners, Mr. Donald M'Kenzie, was asso- 
ciated with Mr. Hunt in the expedition, and excelled on those 
points in which the other was deficient ; for he had been ten 
years in the interior, in service of the Northwest Company, 
and valued himself on his knowledge of " woodcraft," and 
the strategy of Indian trade and Indian warfare. He had a 



100 ASTORIA. 

frame seasoned to toils and hardships, a spirit not to be intimi- 
dated, and was reputed to be a u remarkable shot;" which of 
itself was sufficient to give him renown upon the frontier. 

Mr. Hunt and his coadjutor repaired, about the latter part of 
July, 1810, to Montreal, the ancient emporium of the fur trade, 
where everything requisite for the expedition could be pro- 
cured. One of the first objects was to recruit a complement 
of Canadian voyageurs from the disbanded herd usually to be 
found loitering about the place. A degree of jockeyship, how- 
ever, is required for this service, for a Canadian voyageur is as 
full of latent tricks and vice as a horse ; and when he makes 
the greatest external promise, is prone to prove the greatest 
"take in.' 1 Besides, the Northwest Company, who maintained 
a long established control at Montreal, and knew the qualities 
of every voyageur, secretly interdicted the prime hands from 
engaging in this new service ; so that, although liberal terms 
were offered, few presented themselves but such as were not 
worth having. 

From these Mr. Hunt engaged a number sufficient, as he 
supposed, for present purposes; and, having laid in a supply 
of ammunition, provisions, and Indian goods, embarked all on 
board one of those great canoes at that time universally used 
by the fur traders for navigating the intricate and often-ob- 
structed rivers. The canoe was between thirty and forty feet 
long, and several feet in width; constructed of birch bark, 
sewed with fibres of the roots of the spruce tree, and daubed 
with resin of the pine, instead of tar. The cargo was made up 
in packages, weighing from ninety to one hundred pounds 
each, for the facility of loading and unloading, and of trans- 
portation at portages. The canoe itself, though capable of sus- 
taining a freight of upward of four tons, could readily be 
carried on men's shoulders. Canoes of this size are generally 
managed by eight or ten men, two of whom are picked vete- 
rans, who receive double wages, and are stationed, one at the 
bow and the other at the stern, to keep a lookout and to steer. 
They are termed the foreman and the steersman. The rest, 
who ply the paddles, are called middle-men. When there is a 
favorable breeze, the canoe is occasionally navigated with a 
sail. 

The expedition took its regular departure, as usual, from St. 
Anne's, near the extremity of the island of Montreal, the great 
starting place of the traders to the interior. Here stood the 
ancient chapel of St. Anne, the patroness of the Canadian voy- 



ASTORIA, 101 

ageurs, wher© they made confession, and offered up their 
vows, previous to departing on any hazardous expedition. 
The shrine of the saint was decorated with relics and votive 
offerings hung up by these superstitious beings, either to pro- 
pitiate her favor, or in gratitude for some signal deliverance 
in the wilderness. It was the custom, too, of these devout 
vagabonds, after leaving the chapel, to have a grand carouse, 
in honor of the saint and for the prosperity of the voyage. In 
this part of their devotions, the crew of Mr. Hunt proved 
themselves by no means deficient. Indeed, he soon discovered 
that his recruits, enlisted at Montreal, were fit to vie with the 
ragged regiment of Falstaff. Some were able-bodied, but in- 
expert ; others were expert, but lazy ; while a third class were 
expert and willing, but totally worn out, being broken down 
veterans, incapable of toil. 

With this inefficient crew he made his way up the Ottawa 
River, and by the ancient route of the fur traders along a suc- 
cession of small lakes and rivers to Michilimackinac. Their 
progress was slow and tedious. Mr, Hunt was not accustomed 
to the management of "voyageurs," and he had a crew ad- 
mirably disposed to play the old soldier, and balk their work, 
and ever ready to come to a halt, land, make a fire, put on the 
great pot, and smoke, and gossip, and sing by the hour. 

It was not until the 22d of July that they arrived at Macki- 
naw, situated on the island of the same name, at the confluence 
of lakes Huron and Michigan. This famous old French trad- 
ing post continued to be a rallying point for a multifarious and 
motley population. The inhabitants were amphibious in their 
habits, most of them being, or having been, voyageurs or 
canoe-men. It was the great place of arrival and departure of 
the southwest fur trade. Here the Mackinaw Company had 
established its principal post, from whence it communicated 
with the interior and with Montreal. Hence its various 
traders and trappers set out for their respective destinations 
about Lake Superior and its tributary waters, or for the Mis- 
sissippi, the Arkansas, the Missouri, and the other regions of 
the west. Here, after the absence of a year or more, they 
returned with their peltries, and settled their accounts; the 
furs rendered in by them being transmitted, in canoes, from 
hence to Montreal. Mackinaw was, therefore, for a great part 
of the year, very scantily peopled ; but at certain seasons the 
traders arrived from all points, with their crews of voyageurs, 
and the place swarmed like a hive. 



102 ASTOBIA. 

Mackinaw, at that time, was a mere village, stretching along 
a small bay, with a fine broad beach in front of its principal 
row of houses, and dominated by the old fort, which crowned 
an impending height. The beach was a kind of public prome- 
nade, where were displayed all the vagaries of a seaport on 
the arrival of a fleet from a long cruise. Here voyageurs 
frolicked away their wages, fiddling and dancing in the booths 
and cabins, buying all kinds of knick-knacks, dressing them- 
selves out finely, and parading up and down, like arrant 
braggarts and coxcombs. Sometimes they met with rival 
coxcombs in the young Indians from the opposite shore, who 
would appear on the beach painted and decorated in fantastic 
style, and would saunter up and down, to be gazed at and ad- 
mired, perfectly satisfied that they eclipsed their pale-faced 
competitors. 

Now and then a chance party of " Northwesters" appeared 
at Mackinaw from the rendezvous at Fort William. These 
held themselves up as the chivalry of the fur trade. They 
were men of iron ; proof against cold weather, hard fare, and 
perils of all kinds. Some would wear the northwest button, 
and a formidable dirk, and assume something of a military 
air. They generally wore feathers in their hats, and affected 
the "brave." "Jesuisun homme du nord!" — "I am a man 
of the north," one of these swelling fellows would exclaim, 
sticking his arms akimbo and ruffling by the South westers, 
whom he regarded with great contempt, as men softened by 
mild climates and the luxurious fare of bread and bacon, and 
whom he stigmatized with the inglorious name of pork-eaters. 
The superiority assumed by these vainglorious swaggerers 
was, in general, tacitly admitted. Indeed, some of them had 
acquired great notoriety for deeds of hardihood and courage ; 
for the fur trade had its heroes, whose names resounded 
throughout the wilderness. 

Such was Mackinaw at the time of which we are treating. 
It now, doubtless, presents a totally different aspect. The fur 
companies no longer assemble there; the navigation of the 
lakes is carried on by steamboats and various shipping, and 
the race of traders, and trappers, and voyageurs, and Indian 
dandies, have vapored out their brief hour and disappeared. 
Such changes does the lapse of a handful of years make in this 
ever-changing country. 

At this place Mr. Hunt remained for some time, to complete 
his assortment of Indian goods, and to increase his number of 



ASTORIA, 103 

voyageurs, as well as to engage some of a more efficient char- 
acter than those enlisted at Montreal. 

And now commenced another game of jockeyship. There 
were able and efficient men in abundance at Mackinaw, but for 
several days not one presented himself. If offers were made 
to any, they were listened to with a shake of the head. Should 
any one seem inclined to enlist, there were officious idlers and 
busybodies, of that class who are ever ready to dissuade others 
from any enterprise in which they themselves have no concern. 
These would pull him by the sleeve, take him on one side, and 
murmur in his ear, or would suggest difficulties outright. 

It was objected that the expedition would have to navigate 
unknown rivers, and pass through howling wildernesses in- 
fested by savage tribes, who had already cut off the unfortu- 
nate voyageurs that had ventured among them ; that it was to 
climb the Rocky Mountains and descend into desolate and 
famished regions, where the traveller was often obliged to 
subsist on grasshoppers and crickets, or to kill his own horse 
for food. 

At length one man was hardy enough to engage, and he was 
used like a " stool-pigeon," to decoy others; but several days 
elapsed before any more could be prevailed upon to join him. 
A few then came to terms. It was desirable to engage them 
for five years, but some refused to engage for more than three. 
Then they must have part of their pay in advance, which was 
readily granted. When they had pocketed the amount, and 
squandered it in regales or in outfits, they began to talk of 
pecuniary obligations at Mackinaw, which must be discharged 
before they would be free to depart; or engagements with 
other persons, which were only to be cancelled by a " reasona- 
ble consideration." 

It was in vain to argue or remonstrate. The money ad- 
vanced had already been sacked and spent, and must be lost 
and the recruits left behind, unless they could be freed from 
their debts and engagements. Accordingly, a fine was paid 
for one ; a judgment for another ; a tavern bill for the third ; 
and almost all had to be bought off from some prior engage- 
ment, either real or pretended. 

Mr. Hunt groaned in spirit at the incessant and unreason- 
able demands of these worthies upon his purse ; yet with all 
this outlay of funds, the number recruited was but scanty, 
and many of the most desirable still held themselves aloof, 
and were not to be caught by a golden bait. With these he 



104 ASTORIA. 

tried another temptation. Among the recruits who had en- 
listed he distributed feathers and ostrich plumes. These they 
put in their hats, and thus figured about Mackinaw, assuming 
airs of vast importance, as "voyageurs in a new company, 
that was to eclipse the Northwest." The effect was complete. 
A French Canadian is too vain and mercurial a being to with- 
stand the finery and ostentation of the feather. Numbers im- 
mediately pressed into the service. One must have an ostrich 
plume; another, a white feather with a red end; a third, a 
bunch of cocks' tails. Thus all paraded about in vainglorious 
style, more delighted with the feathers in their hats than with 
the money in their pockets ; and considering themselves fully 
equal to the boastful "men of the north." 

While thus recruiting the number of rank and file, Mr. 
Hunt was joined by a person whom he had invited, by letter, 
to engage as a partner in the expedition. This was Mr. Ram- 
say Crooks, a young man, a native of Scotland, who had 
served under the Northwest Company, and been engaged in 
trading expeditions upon his individual account, among the 
tribes of the Missouri. Mr. Hunt knew him personally, and 
had conceived a high and merited opinion of his judgment, 
enterprise, and integrity; he was rejoiced, therefore, when the 
latter consented to accompany him. Mr. Crooks, however, 
drew from experience a picture of the dangers to which they 
would be subjected, and urged the importance of going with a 
considerable force. In ascending the upper Missouri they 
would have to pass through the country of the Sioux Indians, 
who had manifested repeated hostility to the white traders, 
and rendered their expeditions extremely perilous ; firing upon 
them from the river banks as they passed beneath in their 
boats, and attacking them in their encampments. Mr. Crooks 
himself, when voyaging in company with another trader of the 
name of M'Lellan, had been interrupted by these marauders, 
and had considered himself fortunate in escaping down the 
river without loss of life or property, but with a total abandon- 
ment of his trading voyage. 

Should they be fortunate enough to pass through the coun- 
try of the Sioux without molestation, they would have another 
tribe still more savage and warlike beyond, and deadly foes of 
the white men. These were the Blackfeet Indians, who ranged 
over a wide extent of country which they would have to 
traverse. 

Under all these circumstances it was thought advisable to 



ASTORIA. 105 

augment the party considerably. It already exceeded the 
number of thirty, to which it had originally been limited ; but 
it was determined, on arriving at St. Louis, to increase it to 
the number of sixty. 

These matters being arranged, they prepared to embark; 
but the embarkation of a crew of Canadian voyageurs, on a 
distant expedition, is not so easy a matter as might be im- 
agined; especially of such a set of vainglorious fellows with 
money in both pockets, and cocks' tails in their hats. Like 
sailors, the Canadian voyageurs generally preface a long cruise 
with a carouse. They have their cronies, their brothers, their 
cousins, their wives, their sweethearts ; all to be entertained at 
their expense. They feast, they fiddle, they drink, they sing, 
they dance, they frolic and fight, until they are all as mad as 
so many drunken Indians. The publicans are all obedience to 
their commands, never hesitating to let them run up scores 
without limit, knowing that, when their own money is ex- 
pended, the purses of their employers must answer for the bill, 
or the voyage must be delayed. Neither was it possible, at 
that time, to remedy the matter at Mackinaw. In that am- 
phibious community there was always a propensity to wrest 
the laws in favor of riotous or mutinous boatmen. It was 
necessary, also, to keep the recruits in good humor, seeing the 
novelty and danger of the service into which they were enter- 
ing, and the ease with which they might at any time escape it, 
by jumping into a canoe and going down the stream. 

Such were the scenes that beset Mr. Hunt, and gave him a 
foretaste of the difficulties of his command. The little cabarets 
and sutlers' shops along the bay resounded with the scraping 
of fiddles, with snatches of old French songs, with Indian 
whoops and yells ; while every plumed and feathered vagabond 
had his troop of loving cousins and comrades at his heels. It 
was with the utmost difficulty they could be extricated from 
the clutches of the publicans and the embraces of their pot 
companions, who followed them to the water's edge with many 
a hug, a kiss on each cheek, and a maudlin benediction in 
Canadian French. 

It was about the 12th of August that they left Mackinaw, 
and pursued the usual route by Green Bay, Fox and Wiscon- 
sin Eivers, to Prairie du Chien, and thence down the Missis^ 
sippi to St. Louis, where they landed on the third of Sep> 
tember. 



106 ASTORIA* 



CHAPTER XIV, 

St. Louis, which is situated on the right hank of the Missis 
Bippi River, a few mile's helow the mouth of the Missouri, was, 
at that time, a frontier settlement, and the last fitting-out 
place for the Indian trade of the southwest. It possessed a 
motley population composed of the Creole descendants of the 
original French colonists ; the keen traders from the Atlantic 
States; the backwood-men of Kentucky and Tennessee; the 
Indians and half-breeds of the prairies ; together with a singu 
lar aquatic race that had grown up from the navigation of the 
rivers — the " boatmen of the Mississippi, " who possessed hab- 
its, manners, and almost a language, peculiarly their own, and 
strongly technical. They, at that time, were extremely numer- 
ous, and conducted the chief navigation and commerce of the 
Ohio and the Mississippi, as the voyageurs did of the Canadian 
waters ; but, like them, their consequence and characteristics 
are rapidly vanishing before the all-pervading intrusion of 
steamboats. 

The old French houses engaged in the Indian trade had 
gathered round them a train of dependents, mongrel Indians, 
and mongrel Frenchmen, who had intermarried with Indians. 
These they employed in their various expeditions by land and 
water. Various individuals of other countries had of late 
years, pushed the trade farther into the interior, to the upper 
waters of the Missouri, and had swelled the number of these 
hangers-on. Several of these traders had, two or three years 
previously, formed themselves into a company, composed of 
twelve partners, with a capital of about forty thousand dollars, 
called the Missouri Fur Company, the object of which was to 
establish posts along the upper part of th^t river, and mono- 
polize the trade. The leading partner of this company was 
Mr. Manuel Lisa, a Spaniard by birth, and a man of bold and 
enterprising character, who had ascended the Missouri almost 
to its source, and made himself well acquainted and popular 
with several of its tribes. By his exertions, trading posts had 
been established, in 1808, in the Sioux country, and among the 
Aricara and Mandan tribes ; and a principal one, under Mr. 
Henry, one of the partners, at the forks of the Missouri. This 



ASTORIA. 107 

company had in its employ about two hundred and fifty men,' 
partly American hunters, and partly Creoles and Canadian 
voyageurs. 

All these circum stances combined to produce a population at 
St. Louis even still more motley than that at Mackinaw. Here 
were to be seen about the river banks, the hectoring, extra- 
vagant, bragging boatmen of the Mississippi, with the gay, 
grimacing, singing, good-humored Canadian voyageurs. Va- 
grant Indians, of various tribes, loitered about the streets. 
Now and then, a stark Kentucky hunter, in leathern hunting- 
dress, with rifle on shoulder and knife in belt, strode along. 
Here and there were new brick houses and shops, just set up 
by bustling, driving, and eager men of traffic from the Atlanta 
States; while, on the other hand, the old French mansions, 
with open casements, still retained the easy, indolent air of the 
original colonists ; and now and then the scraping of a fiddle, a 
strain of an ancient French song, or the sound of billiard balls, 
showed that the happy Gallic turn for gayety and amusement 
still lingered about the place. 

Such was St. Louis at the time of Mr. Hunt's arrival there, 
and the appearance of a new fur company, with ample funds 
at its command, produced a strong sensation among the Indian 
traders of the place, and awakened keen jealousy and opposi- 
tion on the part of the Missouri Company. Mr. Hunt pro- 
ceeded to strengthen himself against all competition. For this 
purpose, he secured to the interests of the association another 
of those enterprising men, who had been engaged in indi- 
vidual traffic with the tribes of the Missouri. This was a 
Mr. Joseph Miller, a gentleman well educated and well in- 
formed, and of a respectable family of Baltimore. He had 
been an officer in the army of the United States, but had 
resigned in disgust, on being refused a furlough, and had 
taken to trapping beaver and trading among the Indians. He 
was easily induced by Mr. Hunt to join as a partner, and was 
considered by him, on account of his education and acquire- 
ments, and his experience in Indian trade, a valuable addition 
to the company. 

Several additional men were likewise enlisted in St. Louis, 
some as boatmen, and others as hunters. These last were en- 
gaged, not merely to kill game for provisions, but also, and 
indeed chiefly, to trap beaver and other animals of rich furs, 
valuable in the trade. They enlisted on different terms. Some 
were to have a fixed salary of three hundred dollars ; others 



108 ASTORIA. 

were to be fitted out and maintained at the expense of iIxO 
company, and were to hunt and trap on shares. 

As Mr. Hunt met with much opposition on the part of rival 
traders, especially the Missouri Fur Company, it took him 
some weeks to complete his preparations. The delays which 
he had previously experienced at Montreal, Mackinaw, and on 
the way, added to those at St. Louis, had thrown him much 
behind his original calculations, so that it would be impossible 
to effect his voyage up the Missouri in the present year. This 
river, flowing from high and cold latitudes, and through wide 
and open plains, exposed to chilling blasts, freezes early. The 
winter may be dated from the first of November; there was 
every prospect, therefore, that it would be closed with ice long 
before Mr. Hunt could reach its upper waters. To avoid, how- 
ever, the expense of wintering at St. Louis, he determined to 
push up the river as far as possible, to some point above the 
settlements, where game was plenty, and where his whole 
party could be subsisted by hunting, until the breaking up 
of the ice in the spring should permit them to resume their 
voyage. 

Accordingly, on the twenty- first of October he took his de- 
parture from St. Louis. His party was distributed in three 
boats. One was the barge which he had brought from Mack- 
inaw ; another was of a larger size, such as was formerly used 
in navigating the Mohawk River, and known by the generic 
name of the Schenectady barge ; the other was a large keel 
boat, at that time the grand conveyance on the Mississippi. 

In this way they set out from St. Louis, in buoyant spirits, 
and soon arrived at the mouth of the Missouri. This vast river, 
three thousand miles in length, and which, with its tributary 
streams, drains such an immense extent of country, was as yet 
but casually and imperfectly navigated by the adventurous 
bark of the fur trader. A steamboat had never yet? stemmed 
its turbulent current. Sails were but of casual assistance, for 
it required a strong wind to conquer the force of the stream. 
The main dependence was on bodily strength and manual 
dexterity. The boats, in general, had to be propelled by oars 
and setting poles, or drawn by the hand and by grappling hooks 
from one root or overhanging tree to another ; or towed by the 
long cordelle, or towing line, where the shores were sufficiently 
clear of woods and thickets to permit the men to pass along 
the banks. 

During this slow and tedious progress the boat would be ex* 



ASTORIA. 109 

posed to frequent danger from floating trees and great masses 
of drift-wood, or to be impaled upon snags and sawyers ; that 
is to say, sunken trees, presenting a jagged or pointed end 
above the surface of the water. As the channel of the river 
frequently shifted from side to side, according to the bends 
and sand-banks, the boat had, in the same way, to advance in 
a zigzag course. Often a part of the crew would have to leap 
into the water at the shallows, and wade along with the tow- 
ing line, while their comrades on board toilfully assisted with 
oar and setting pole. Sometimes the boat would seem to be 
retained motionless, as if spellbound, opposite some point 
round which the current set with violence, and where the 
utmost labor scarce effected any visible progress. 

On these occasions it was that the merits of the Canadian 
voyageurs came into full action. Patient of toil, not to be dis- 
heartened by impediments and disappointments, fertile in ex- 
pedients, and versed in every mode of humoring and conquer- 
ing the wayward current, they would ply every exertion, 
sometimes in the boat, sometimes on shore, sometimes in the 
water, however cold ; always alert, always in good humor ; and, 
should they at any time flag or grow weary, one of their popu- 
lar boat songs, chanted by a veteran oarsman, and responded 
to in chorus, acted as a never-failing restorative. 

By such assiduous and persevering labor they made their 
way about four hundred and fifty miles up the Missouri, by 
the 16th of November, to the mouth of the Nodowa. As this 
was a good hunting country, and as the season was rapidly ad- 
vancing, they determined to establish their winter quarters at 
this place ; and, in fact, two days after they had come to a 
halt, the river closed just above their encampment. 

The party had not been long at this place when they were 
joined by Mr. Eobert M'Lellan, another trader of the Missouri ; 
the same who had been associated with Mr. Crooks in the un- 
fortunate expedition in which they had been intercepted by 
the Sioux Indians, and obliged to make a rapid retreat down 
the river. 

M'Lellan was a remarkable man. He had been a partisan 
lander General Wayne, in his Indian wars, where he had dis- 
tinguished himself by his fiery spirit and reckless daring, and 
marvellous stories were told of his exploits. His appearance 
answered to his character. His frame was meagre, but mus- 
cular ; showing strength, activity, and iron firmness. His eyes 
were dark, deep set, and piercing. He was restless, fearless, 



HO ASTORIA, 

but of impetuous and sometimes ungovernable temper. He 
had been invited by Mr. Hunt to enroll himself as a partner, 
and gladly consented ; being pleased with the thoughts of pass- 
ing, with a powerful force, through the country of the Sioux, 
and perhaps having an opportunity of revenging himself upon 
that lawless tribe for their past offences. 

Another recruit that joined the camp at Nodowa deserves 
equal mention. This was John Day, a hunter from the back- 
woods of Virginia, who had been several years on the Missouri 
in the service of Mr. Crooks, and of other traders. He was 
about forty years of age, six feet two inches high, straight as 
an Indian ; with an elastic step as if he trod on springs, and a 
handsome, open, manly countenance. It was his boast that in 
his younger days nothing could hurt or daunt him; but he had 
" lived too fast" and injured his constitution by his excesses. 
Still he was strong of hand, bold of heart, a prime woodman, 
and an almost unerring shot. He had the frank spirit of a 
Virginian, and the rough heroism of a pioneer of the west. 

The party were now brought to a halt for several months. 
They were in a country abounding with deer and wild turkeys, 
so that there was no stint of provisions, and every one ap- 
peared cheerful and contented. Mr. Hunt determined to avail 
himself of this interval to return to St. Louis and obtain a rein- 
forcement. He wished to procure an interpreter, acquainted 
with the language of the Sioux, as, from all accounts, he ap- 
prehended difficulties in passing through the country of that 
nation. He felt the necessity, also, of having a greater num- 
ber of hunters, not merely to keep up a supply of provisions 
throughout their long and arduous expedition, but also as a 
protection and defence, in case of Indian hostilities. For such 
service the Canadian voyageurs were little to be depended 
upon, fighting not being a part of their profession. The proper 
kind of men were American hunters experienced in savage 
life and savage warfare, and possessed of the true game spirit 
of the west. 

Leaving, therefore, the encampment in charge of the other 
partners, Mr. Hunt set off on foot on the first of January 
(1810), for St. Louis. He was accompanied by eight men as 
far as Fort Osage, about one hundred and fifty miles below 
Nodowa. Here he procured a couple of horses, and proceeded 
on the remainder of his journey with two men, sending the 
other six back to the encampment. He arrived at St. Louis on 
the 20th of January. 



ASTORIA. HI 



CHAPTER XV. 

On this his second visit to St. Louis, Mr. Hunt was again 
impeded in his plans by the opposition of the Missouri Fur 
Company. The affairs of that company were, at this time, in 
a very dubious state. During the preceding year, their prin- 
cipal establishment at the forks of the Missouri had been so 
much harassed by the Blackfeet Indians that its commander, 
Mr. Henry, one of the partners, had been compelled to aban- 
don the post and cross the Rocky Mountains, with the in- 
tention of fixing himself upon one of the upper branches of 
the Columbia. What had become of him and his party was 
unknown. The most intense anxiety was felt concerning 
them, and apprehensions that they might have been cut off 
by the savages. At the time of Mr. Hunt's arrival at St. 
Louis, the Missouri Company were fitting out an expedition 
to go in quest of Mr. Henry. It was to be conducted by 
Mr. Manuel Lisa v the enterprising partner already mentioned. 

There being thus two expeditions on foot at the same mo- 
ment, an unusual demand was occasioned for hunters and 
voyageurs, who accordingly profited by the circumstance, 
and stipulated for high terms. Mr. Hunt found a keen and 
subtle competitor in Lisa, and was obliged to secure his re- 
cruits by liberal advances of pay, and by other pecuniary 
indulgences. 

The greatest difficulty was to procure the Sioux interpreter. 
There was but one man to be met with at St. Louis who 
was fitted for the purpose, but to secure him would require 
much management. The individual in question was a half- 
breed, named Pierre Dorion; and as he figures hereafter in 
this narrative, and is, withal, a striking specimen of the hy- 
brid race on the frontier, we shall give a few particulars con- 
cerning him. Pierre was the son of Dorion, the French in- 
terpreter, who accompanied Messrs. Lewis and Clarke in 
their famous exploring expedition across the Rocky Moun- 
tains. Old Dorion was one of those French Creoles, descend- 
ants of the ancient Canadian stock, who abound on the 
western frontier, and amalgamate or cohabit with the savages. 
He had sojourned among various tribes, and perhaps left 



112 ASTORIA. 

progeny among them all; but his regular or habitual wife 
was a Sioux squaw. By her he had a hopeful brood of half- 
breed sons, of whom Pierre was one. The domestic affairs 
of old Dorion were conducted on the true Indian plan. Father 
and sons would occasionally get drunk together, and then 
the cabin was a scene of ruffian brawl and fighting, in the 
course of which the old Frenchman was apt to get soundly 
belabored by his mongrel offspring. In a furious scuffle of 
the kind, one of the sons got the old man upon the ground, 
and was upon the point of scalping him. "Hold! my son," 
cried the old fellow, in imploring accents, " you are too brave, 
too honorable to scalp your father !" This last appeal touched 
the French side of the half-breed's heart, so he suffered the 
old man to wear his scalp unharmed, 

Of this hopeful stock was Pierre Dorion, the man whom it 
was now the desire of Mr. Hunt to engage as an interpreter. 
He had been employed in that capacity by the Missouri Fur 
Company during the preceding year, and had conducted their 
traders in safety through the different tribes of the Sioux. He 
had proved himself faithful and serviceable while sober ; but 
the love of liquor, in which he had been nurtured and brought 
up, would occasionally break out, and with it the savage side 
of his character. 

It was his love of liquor which had embroiled him with the 
Missouri Company. While in their service at Fort Mandan on 
the frontier, he had been seized with a whiskey mania ; and as 
the beverage was only to be procured at the company's store, 
it had been charged in his account at the rate of ten dollars a 
quart. This item had ever remained unsettled, and a matter of 
furious dispute, the mere mention of which was sufficient to 
put him in a passion. 

The moment it was discovered by Mr. Lisa that Pierre 
Dorion was in treaty with the new and rival association, he 
endeavored by threats as well as promises, to prevent his en- 
gaging in their service. His promises might, perhaps, have 
prevailed ; but his threats, which related to the whiskey debt, 
only served to drive Pierre into the opposite ranks. Still, he 
took advantage of this competition for his services to stand 
out with Mr. Hunt on the most advantageous terms, and, after 
a negotiation of nearly two weeks, capitulated to serve in the 
expedition, as hunter and interpreter, at the rate of three hun- 
dred dollars a year, two hundred of which were to be paid in 
advance. 



ASTORIA. % 113 

When Mr. Hunt had got everything ready for leaving St. 
Louis new difficulties rose. Five of the American hunters from 
the encampment at Nodowa, suddenly made their appearance. 
They alleged that they had been ill-treated by the partners 
at the encampment, and had come off clandestinely, in conse- 
quence of a dispute. It was useless at the present moment, 
and under present circumstances, to attempt any compulsory 
measures with these deserters. Two of them Mr. Hunt pre- 
vailed upon, by mild means, to return with him. The rest re- 
fused ; nay, what was worse, they spread such reports of the 
hardships and dangers to be apprehended in the course of the 
expedition, that they struck a panic into those hunters who 
had recently engaged at St. Louis, and, when the hour of de- 
parture arrived, all but one refused to embark. It was in vain 
to plead or remonstrate; they shouldered their rifles, and 
turned their back upon the expedition, and Mr. Hunt was fain 
to put off from shore with the single hunter and a number of 
voyageurs whom he had engaged. Even Pierre Dorion, at the 
last moment, refused to enter the boat until Mr. Hunt con- 
sented to take his squaw and two children onboard also. But 
the tissue of perplexities, on account of this worthy individual, 
did not end here. 

Among the various persons who were about to proceed up 
the Missouri with Mr. Hunt, were two scientific gentlemen: 
one Mr. John Bradbury, a man of mature age, but great enter- 
prise and personal activity, who had been sent out by the Lin- 
naean Society of Liverpool, to make a collection of American 
plants; the other, a Mr. Nuttall, likewise an Englishman, 
younger in years, who has since made himself known as the 
author of " Travels in Arkansas," and a work on the " Genera 
of American Plants." Mr. Hunt had offered them the protec- 
tion and facilities of his party, in their scientific researches up 
the Missouri. As they were not ready to depart at the moment 
of embarkation, they put their trunks on board of the boat, but 
remained at St. Louis until the next day, for the arrival of the 
post, intending to join the expedition at St. Charles, a short 
distance above the mouth of the Missouri. 

The same evening, however, they learned that a writ had 
been issued against Pierre Dorion for his whiskey debt, by Mr. 
Lisa, as agent of the Missouri Company, and that it was the in- 
tention to entrap the mongrel linguist on his arrival at St. 
Charles. Upon hearing this, Mr. Bradbury and Mr. Nuttall set 
off a little after midnight, by land, got ahead of the boat as it 



114 * ASTORIA. 

was ascending the Missouri, before its arrival at St. Charles, 
and gave Pierre Dorion warning of the legal toil prepared to 
ensnare him. The knowing Pierre immediately landed and 
took to the woods, followed by his squaw laden with their 
papooses, and a large bundle containing their most precious 
effects, promising to rejoin the party some distance above St. 
the Charles. There seemed little dependence to be placed upon 
promises of a loose adventurer of the kind, who was at the* 
very time playing an evasive game with his former employers ; 
who had already received two thirds of his year's pay, and had 
his rifle on his shoulder, his family and worldly fortune at his 
heels, and the wild woods before him. There was no alterna- 
tive, however, and it was hoped his pique against his old 
employers would render him faithful to his new ones. 

The party reached St. Charles in the afternoon, but the har- 
pies of the law looked in vain for their expected prey. The 
boats resumed their course on the following morning, and had 
not proceeded far when Pierre Dorion made his appearance on 
the shore. He was gladly taken .on board, but he came with- 
out his squaw. They had quarrelled in the night ; Pierre had 
administered the Indian discipline of the cudgel, whereupon 
she had taken to the woods, with their children and all their 
worldly goods. Pierre evidently was deeply grieved and dis- 
concerted at the loss of his wife and his knapsack, wherefore 
Mr. Hunt dispatched one of the Canadian voyageurs in search 
of the fugitives ; and the whole party, after proceeding a few 
miles further, encamped on an island to await his return. The 
Canadian rejoined the party, but without the squaw; and 
Pierre Dorion passed a solitary and anxious night, bitterly 
regretting his indiscretion in having exercised his conjugal 
authority so near home. Before daybreak, however, a well- 
known voice reached his ears from the opposite shore. It was 
his repentant spouse, who had been wandering the woods all 
night in quest of the party, and had at length descried it by its 
fires. A boat was dispatched for her, the interesting family 
was once more united, and Mr. Hunt now flattered himself 
that his perplexities with Pierre Dorion were at an end. 

Bad weather, very heavy rains, and an unusually early rise 
in the Missouri rendered the ascent of the river toilsome, slow, 
and dangerous. The rise of the Missouri does not generally 
take place until the month of May or June; the present swell- 
ing of the river must have been caused by a freshet in some of 
its more southern branches. It could not have been the great 



ASTORIA. 115 

annual flood, as the higher branches must still have been ice- 
bound. 

And here we cannot but pause, to notice the admirable 
arrangement of nature, by which the annual swellings of the 
various great rivers which empty themselves into the Missis- 
sippi have been made to precede each other at considerable 
intervals. Thus, the flood of the Red River precedes that of 
the Arkansas by a month. The Arkansas, also, rising in a 
much more southern latitude than the Missouri, takes the lead 
of it in its annual excess, and its superabundant waters are 
disgorged and disposed of long before the breaking up of the 
icy barriers of the north; otherwise, did all these mighty 
streams rise simultaneously, and discharge their vernal floods 
into the Mississippi, an inundation would be the consequence, 
that would submerge and devastate all the lower country. 

On the afternoon of the third day, January 17th, the boats 
touched at Charette, one of the old villages founded by the 
original French colonists. Here they met with Daniel Boone, 
the renowned patriarch of Kentucky, who had kept in the 
advance of civilization, and on the borders of the wilderness, 
still leading a hunter's life, though now in his eighty-fifth year. 
He had but recently returned from a hunting and trapping 
expedition, and had brought nearly sixty beaver skins as 
trophies of his skill. The old man was still erect in form, 
strong in limb, and unflinching in spirit ; and as he stood on 
the river bank, watching the departure of an expedition des- 
tined to traverse the wilderness to the very shores of the 
Pacific, very probably felt a throb of his old pioneer spirit, 
impelling him to shoulder his rifle and join the adventurous 
band. Boone flourished several years after this meeting, in a 
vigorous old age, the Nestor of hunters and backwoodsmen; 
and died, full of sylvan honor and renown, in 1818, in his 
ninety-second year, I 

The next morning early, as the party were yet encamped at 
the mouth of a small stream, they were visited by another of 
those heroes of the wilderness, one John Colter, who had 
accompanied Lewis and Clarke in their memorable expedition. 
He had recently made one of those vast internal voyages so 
characteristic of this fearless class of men, and of the immense 
regions over which they hold their lonely wanderings ; having 
come from the head- waters of the Missouri to St. Louis in a 
small canoe. This distance of three thousand miles he had 
accomplished in thirty days. Colter kept with the party all 



116 ASTORIA. 

the morning. He had many particulars to give them concern- 
ing the Blackfeet Indians, a restless and predatory tribe, who 
had conceived an implacable hostility to the white men, in 
consequence of one of their warriors having been killed by 
Captain Lewis, while attempting to steal horses. Through the 
country infested by these savages the expedition would have 
to proceed, and Colter was urgent in reiterating the precau- 
tions that ought to be observed respecting them. He had 
himself experienced their vindictive cruelty, and his story 
deserves particular citation, as showing the hair-breadth ad- 
ventures to which these solitary rovers of the wilderness are 
exposed. 

Colter, with the hardihood of a regular trapper, had cast 
himself loose from the party of Lewis and Clarke in the very 
heart of the wilderness, and had remained to trap beaver 
alone on the head- waters of the Missouri. Here he fell in with 
another lonely trapper, like himself, named Potts, and they 
agreed to keep together. They were in the very region of the 
terrible Blackfeet, at that time thirsting to revenge the death 
of their companion, and knew that they had to expect no 
mercy at their hands. They were obliged to keep concealed 
all day in the woody margins of the rivers, setting their traps 
after nightfall, and taking them up before daybreak. It was 
running a fearful risk for the sake of a few beaver skins ; but 
such is the life of the trapper. 

They were on a branch of the Missouri called Jefferson's 
Fork, and had set their traps at night, about six miles up a 
small river that emptied into the fork. Early in the morning 
they ascended the river in a canoe, to examine the traps. The 
banks on each side were high and perpendicular, and cast a 
shade over the stream. As they were softly paddling along, 
they heard the trampling of many feet upon the banks. Colter 
immediately gave the alarm of " Indians!" and was for in- 
stant retreat. Potts scoffed at him for being frightened by the 
trampling of a herd of buffaloes. Colter checked his uneasi- 
ness, and paddled forward. They had not gone much further 
when frightful whoops and yells burst forth from each side of 
the river, and several hundred Indians appeared on either 
bank. Signs were made to the unfortunate trappers to come 
on shore. They were obliged to comply. Before they could 
get out of their canoes, a savage seized the rifle belonging to 
Potts. Colter sprang on shore, wrested the weapon from the 
hands of the Indian, and restored it to his companion, who 



ASTORIA. 117 

was still in the canoe, and immediately pushed into the stream. 
There was the sharp twang of a bow, and Potts cried out that 
he was wounded. Colter urged him to come on shore and sub- 
mit, as his only chance for life ; but the other knew there was 
no prospect of mercy, and determined to die game. Levelling 
his rifle, he shot one of the savages dead on the spot. The 
next moment he fell himself, pierced with innumerable arrows. 
The vengeance of the savages now turned upon Colter. He 
was stripped naked, and, having some knowledge of the Black- 
foot language, overheard a consultation as to the mode of dis- 
patching him, so as to derive the greatest amusement from his 
death. Some were for setting him up as a mark, and having 
a trial of skill at his expense. The chief, however, was for 
nobler sport. He seized Colter by the shoulder, and demanded 
if he could run fast. The unfortunate trapper was too well 
acquainted with Indian customs not to comprehend the drift 
of the question. He knew he was to run for his life, to furnish 
a kind of human hunt to his persecutors. Though in reality 
he was noted among his brother hunters for swiftness of foot, 
he assured the chief that he was a very bad runner. His 
stratagem gained him some vantage ground. He was led by 
the chief into the prairie, about four hundred yards from the 
main body of savages, and then turned loose to save himself if 
he could. A tremendous yell let him know that the whole 
pack of bloodhounds were off in full cry. Colter flew, rather 
than ran ; he was astonished at his own speed ; but he had six 
miles of prairie to traverse before he should reach the Jeffer- 
son Fork of the Missouri ; how could he hope to hold out such 
a distance with the fearful odds of several hundred to one 
against him ! The plain, too, abounded with the prickly pear, 
which wounded his naked feet. Still he fled on, dreading each 
moment to hear the twang of a bow, and to feel an arrow 
quivering at his heart. He did not even dare to look round, 
lest he should lose an inch of that distance on which his life 
depended. He had ran nearly half way across the plain when 
the sound of pursuit grew somewhat fainter, and he ventured 
to turn his head. The main body of his pursuers were a con- 
siderable distance behind ; several of the fastest runners were 
scattered in the advance ; while a swift-footed warrior, armed 
with a spear, was not more that a hundred yards behind him. 

Inspired with new hope, Colter redoubled his exertions, but 
strained himself to such a degree that the blood gushed from 
his mouth and nostrils and streamed down his breast. He 



118 ASTORIA. 

arrived within a mile of the river. The sound of footsteps 
gathered upon him. A glance behind showed his pursuer 
within twenty yards, and preparing to launch his spear. 
Stopping short, he turned round and spread out his arms. 
The savage, confounded by this sudden action, attempted to 
stop and hurl his spear, but fell in the very act. His spear stuck 
in the ground, and the shaft broke in his hand. Colter plucked 
up the pointed part, pinned the savage to the earth, and con- 
tinued his flight. The Indians, as they arrived at their slaugh- 
tered companion, stopped to howl over him. Colter made the 
most of this precious delay, gained the skirt of cotton-wood 
bordering the river, dashed through it, and plunged into the 
stream. He swam to a neighboring island, against the upper 
end of which the driftwood had lodged in such quantities as to 
form a natural raft; under this he dived, and swam below 
water until he succeeded in getting a breathing place between 
the floating trunks of trees, whose branches and bushes formed 
a covert several feet above the level of the water. He had 
scarcely drawn breath after all his toils, when he heard his 
pursuers on the river bank, whooping and yelling like so many 
fiends. They plunged in the river, and swam to the raft. The 
heart of Colter almost died within him as he saw them, through 
the chinks of his concealment, passing and repassing, and 
seeking for him in all directions. They at length gave up the 
search, and he began to rejoice in his escape, when the idea 
presented itself that they might set the raft on fire. Here was 
a new source of horrible apprehension, in which he remained 
until nightfall. Fortunately, the idea did not suggest itself to 
the Indians. As soon as it was dark, finding by the silence 
around that his pursuers had departed, Colter dived again and 
came up beyond the raft. He then swam silently down the 
river for a considerable distance, when he landed, and kept on 
all night, to get as far as possible from this dangerous neigh- 
borhood. 

By daybreak he had gained sufficient distance to relieve him 
from the terrors of his savage foes ; but now new sources of 
inquietude presented thenselves. He was naked and alone, in 
the midst of an unbounded wilderness ; his only chance was to 
reach a trading post of the Missouri Company, situated on a 
branch of the Yellowstone River. Even should he elude his 
pursuers, days must elapse before he could reach this post, 
during which he must traverse immense prairies destitute of 
shade, his naked body exposed to the burning heat of the sun 



ASTORIA. 119 

by day, and the dews and chills of the night season ; and his 
feet lacerated by the thorns of the prickly pear. Though he 
might see game in abundance around him, he had no means 
of killing any for his sustenance, and must depend for food 
upon the roots of the earth. In defiance of these difficulties 
he pushed resolutely forward, guiding himself in his trackless 
course by those signs and indications known only to Indians 
and backwoodsmen ; and after braving dangers and hardships 
enough to break down any spirit but that of a western pioneer, 
arrived safe at the solitary post in question.* 

Such is a sample of the rugged experience which Colter had 
to relate of savage lif e ; yet, with all these perils and terrors 
fresh in his recollection, he could not see the present band on 
their way to those regions of danger and adventure, without 
feeling a vehement impulse to join them. A western trapper 
is like a sailor; past hazards only stimulate him to further 
risks. The vast prairie is to the one what the ocean is to the 
other, a boundless field of enterprise and exploit. However he 
may have suffered in his last cruise, he is always ready to join 
a new expedition ; and the more adventurous its nature, the 
more attractive is it to his vagrant spirit. 

Nothing seems to have kept Colter from continuing with the 
party to the shores of the Pacific but the circumstance of his 
having recently married. All the morning he kept with them, 
balancing in his mind the charms of his bride against those of 
the Rocky Mountains; the former, however prevailed, and 
after a march of several miles, he took a reluctant leave of the 
travellers, and turned his face homeward. 

Continuing their progress up the Missouri, the party en- 
camped, on the evening of the 21st of March, in the neighbor- 
hood of a little frontier village of French Creoles. Here Pierre 
Dorion met w^ith some of his old comrades, with whom he had 
a long gossip, and returned to the camp with rumors of bloody 
feuds between the Osages and the Ioways, or Ayaways, Poto- 
watomies, Sioux, and Sawkees. Blood had already been shed, 
and scalps been taken. A war party, three hundred strong, 
were prowling in the neighborhood ; others might be met with 
higher up the river; it behooved the travellers, therefore, to 
be upon their guard against robbery or surprise, for an Indian 
war party on the march is prone to acts of outrage. 

In consequence of this report, which was subsequently con- 

* Bradbmy. Travels in America, p. 17. 



120 ASTORIA. 

firmed by further intelligence, a guard was kept up at nighfc 
round the encampment, and they all slept on their arms. As 
they were sixteen in number, and well supplied with weapons 
and ammunition, they trusted to be able to give any maraud- 
ing party a warm reception. Nothing occurred, however, to 
molest them on their voyage, and on the 8th of April, they 
came in sight of Fort Osage. On their approach the flag was 
hoisted on the fort, and they saluted it by a discharge of fire- 
arms. Within a short distance of the fort was an Osage vil- 
lage, the inhabitants of which, men, women and children, 
thronged down to the water side to witness their landing. 
One of the first persons they met on the river bank was Mr. 
Crooks, who had come down in a boat, with nine men, frore 
the winter encampment at Nodowa, to meet them. 

They remained at Fort Osage a part of three days, during 
which they were hospitably entertained at the garrison by 
Lieutenant Brownson, who held a temporary command. They 
were regaled also with a war-feast at the village ; the Osage 
warriors having returned from a successful foray against the 
Ioways, in which they had taken seven scalps. These were 
paraded on poles about the village, followed by the warriors 
decked out in all their savage ornaments, and hideously painted 
as if for battle. 

By the Osage warriors, Mr. Hunt and his companions were 
again warned to be on their guard in ascending the river, as 
the Sioux tribe meant to lay in wait and attack them. 

On the 10th of April they again embarked, their party being 
now augmented to twenty-six, by the addition of Mr. Crooks 
and his boat's crew. They had not proceeded far, however, 
when there was a great outcry from one of the boats ; it was 
occasioned by a little domestic discipline in the Dorion family. 
The squaw of the worthy interpreter, it appeared, had been so 
delighted with the scalp-dance, and other festivities of the 
Osage village, that she had taken a strong inclination to re- 
main there. This had been as strongly opposed by her liege 
lord, who had compelled her to embark. The good dame had 
remained sulky ever since, whereupon Pierre, seeing no other 
mode of exorcising the evil spirit out of her, and being, per- 
haps, a little inspired by whiskey, had resorted to the Indian 
remedy of the cudgel, and, before his neighbors could interfere, 
had belabored her so soundly that there is no record of her 
having shown any refractory symptoms throughout the re- 
mainder of the expedition. 



ASTORIA. 121 

For a week they continued their voyage, exposed to almost 
incessant rains. The bodies of drowned buffaloes floated past 
them in vast numbers ; many had drifted upon the shore, or 
against the upper ends of the rafts and islands. These had at- 
tracted great flights of turkey-buzzards ; some were banquet- 
ing on the carcasses, others were soaring far aloft in the sky, 
and others were perched on the trees, with their backs to the 
sun, and their wings stretched out to dry, like so many vessels 
in harbor, spreading their sails after a shower. 

The turkey -buzzard (vuitur aura, or golden vulture), when 
on the wing, is one of the most specious and imposing of birds. 
Its flight in the upper regions of the air is really sublime, ex- 
tending its immense wings, and wheeling slowly and majesti- 
cally to and fro, seemingly without exerting a muscle or flutter- 
ing a feather, but moving by mere volition, and sailing on 
the bosom of the air as a ship upon the ocean. Usurping the 
empyreal realm of the eagle, he assumes for a time the port 
and dignity of that majestic bird, and often is mistaken for 
him by ignorant crawlers upon earth. It is only when he de- 
scends from the clouds to pounce upon carrion that he betrays 
his low propensities, and reveals his caitiff character. Near at 
hand he is a disgusting bird, ragged in plumage, base in aspect, 
and of loathsome odor. 

On the 17th of April Mr. Hunt arrived with his party at the 
station near the Nodowa Eiver, where the main body had been 
quartered during the winter. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



The weather continued rainy and ungenial for some days 
after Mr. Hunt's return to Nodowa; yet spring was rapidly ad- 
vancing and vegetation was putting forth with all its early 
freshness and beauty. The snakes began to recover from their 
torpor and crawl forth into day, and the neighborhood of the 
wintering house seems to have been much infested with them. 
Mr. Bradbury, in the course of his botanical researches, found 
a surprising number in a half torpid state, under flat stones 
upon the banks which overhung the cantonment, and narrowly 
escaped being struck by a rattlesnake, which started at him 
from a cleft in the rock, but fortunately gave him warning by 
its rattle. 



122 - ASTORIA. 

The pigeons too were filling the woods in vast migratory 
flocks. It is almost incredible to describe the prodigious flights 
of these birds in the western wildernesses. They appear ab- 
solutely in clouds, and move with astonishing velocity, their 
wings making a whistling sound as they fly. The rapid evolu- 
tions of these flocks, wheeling and shifting suddenly as if with 
one mind and one impulse ; the flashing changes of color they 
present, as their backs, their breasts, or the under part of 
their wings are turned to the spectator, are singularly pleas- 
ing. When they alight, if on the ground, they cover whole 
.acres at a time ; if upon trees, the branches often break beneath 
their weight. If suddenly startled while feeding in the midst 
of a forest, the noise they make in getting on the wing is like 
the roar of a cataract or the sound of distant thunder. 

A flight of this kind, like an Egyptian flight of locusts, de- 
vours everything that serves for its food as it passes along. So 
great were the numbers in the vicinity of the camp that Mr. 
Bradbury, in the course of a morning's excursion, shot nearly 
three hundred with a fowling-piece. He gives a curious, though 
apparently a faithful, account of the kind of discipline observed 
in these immense flocks, so that each may have a chance of 
picking up food. As the front ranks must meet with the great- 
est abundance, and the rear ranks must have scanty pickings, 
the instant a rank finds itself the hindmost, it rises in the air, 
flies over the whole flock, and takes its place in the advance. 
The next rank follows in its course, and thus the last is con- 
tinually becoming first, and all by turns have a front place at 
the banquet. 

The rains having at length subsided, Mr. Hunt broke up the 
encampment and resumed his course up the Missouri. 

The party now consisted of nearly sixty persons : of whom 
five were partners ; one, John Eeed, was a clerk ; forty were 
Canadian " voyageurs," or "engages" and there were several 
hunters. They embarked in four boats, one of w T hich was of a 
large size, mounting a swivel and two howitzers. Ail were 
furnished with masts and sails, to be used when the wind was 
sufficiently favorable and strong to overpower the current of 
the river. Such was the case for the first four or five days, 
when they were wafted steadily up the stream by a strong 
southeaster. 

Their encampments at night were often pleasant and pictu- 
resque : on some beautfful bank beneath spreading trees, which 
afforded them shelter and fuel. The tents were pitched, the 



AST01UA. 123 

fires made and the meals prepared by the voyageurs, and 
many a story was told, and joke passed, and song sung, round 
the evening fire. All, however, were asleep at an early hour. 
Some under the tents, others wrapped in blankets before the 
fire, or beneath the trees; and some few in the boats and 
canoes. 

On the 28th they breakfasted on one of the islands which lie 
at the mouth of the Nebraska or Platte Eiver, the largest tribu- 
tary of the Missouri, and about six hundred miles above its 
confluence with the Mississippi. This broad but shallow stream 
flows for an immense distance through a wide and verdant val- 
ley scooped out of boundless prairies. It draws its main sup- 
plies, by several forks or branches, from the Rocky Mountains. 
The mouth of this river is established as the dividing point be- 
tween the upper and lower Missouri; and the earlier voyagers 
in their toilsome ascent, before the introduction of steamboats, 
considered one half of their labors accomplished when they 
reached this place. The passing of the mouth of the Nebraska, 
therefore, was equivalent among boatmen to the crossing of 
the line among sailors, and was celebrated with like ceremoni- 
als of a rough and waggish nature, practised upon the unini- 
tiated; among which was the old nautical joke of shaving. 
The river deities, however, like those of the sea, were to be pro 
pitiated by a bribe, and the infliction of these rude honors to 
be parried by a treat to the adepts. 

At the mouth of the Nebraska new signs were met with of 
war parties which had recently been in the vicinity. There 
was the frame of a skin canoe, in which the warriors had 
traversed the river. At night, also, the lurid reflection of 
immense fires hung in the sky, showing the conflagration of 
great tracts of the prairies. Such fires not being made by 
hunters so late in the season, it was supposed they were caused 
by some wandering war parties. These often take the precau- 
tion to set the prairies on fire behind them to conceal their 
traces from their enemies. This is chiefly done when the 
party has been unsuccessful, and is on the retreat and appre- 
hensive of pursuit. At such time it is not safe even for 
friends to fall in with them, as they are apt to be in savage 
humor, and disposed to vent their spleen in capricious out- 
rage. These signs, therefore, of a band of marauders on the 
prowl, called for some degree of vigilance on the part of the 
travellers. 

After passing the Nebraska, the party halted for part of two 



124 ASTORIA: 

days on the bank of the river, a little above Papillion Creek, 
to supply themselves with a stock of oars and poles from the 
tough wood of the ash, which is not met with higher up the 
Missouri. While the voyageurs were thus occupied, the 
naturalists rambled over the adjacent country to collect 
plants. From the summit of a range of bluffs on the opposite 
side of the river, about two hundred and fifty feet high, they 
had one of those vast and magnificent prospects which some- 
times unfold themselves in these boundless regions. Below 
them was the valley of the Missouri, about seven miles in 
breadth, clad in the fresh verdure of spring; enamelled with 
flowers and interspersed with clumps and groves of noble trees, 
between which the mighty river poured its turbulent and tur- 
bid stream. The interior of the country presented a singular 
scene; the immense waste being broken up by innumerable 
green hills, not above eighty feet in height, but extremely 
steep, and acutely pointed at their summits. A long line of 
bluffs extended for upward of thirty miles, parallel to the Mis- 
souri, with a shallow lake stretching along their base, which 
had evidently once formed a bed of the river. The surface of 
this lake was covered with aquatic plants, on the broad leaves 
of which numbers of water-snakes, drawn forth by the genial 
warmth of spring, were basking in the sunshine. 

On the 2d of May, at the usual hour of embarking, the 
camp was thrown into some confusion by two of the hunters, 
named Harrington, expressing their intention to abandon the 
expedition and return home. One of these had joined the 
party in the preceding autumn, having been hunting for two 
years on the Missouri ; the other had engaged at St. Louis, in 
the following March, and had come up from thence with Mr. 
Hunt. He now declared that he had enlisted merely for the 
purpose of following his brother, and persuading him to re- 
turn; having been enjoined to do so by his mother, whose 
anxiety had been awakened by the idea of his going on such a 
wild and distant expedition. 

The loss of two stark hunters and prime riflemen was a seri- 
ous affair to the party, for they were approaching the region 
where they might expect hostilities from the Sioux ; indeed, 
throughout the whole of their perilous journey, the services of 
such men would be all important, for little reliance was to be 
placed upon the valor of the Canadians in case of attack. Mr. 
Hunt endeavored by arguments, expostulations, and entrea- 
ties, to shake the determination of the two brothers. He 



ASTORIA. 125 

represented to them that they were between six and seven 
hundred miles above the mouth of the Missouri; that they 
would have four hundred miles to go before they could reach 
the habitation of a white man, throughout which they would 
be exposed to all kinds of risks ; since he declared, if they per- 
sisted in abandoning him and breaking their faith, he would 
not furnish them with a single round of ammunition. All was 
in vain ; they obstinately persisted in their resolution ; where- 
upon Mr. Hunt, partly incited by indignation, partly by the 
policy of deterring others from desertion, put his threat in 
execution, and left them to find their way back to the settle- 
ments without, as he supposed, a single bullet or charge of 
powder. 

The boats now continued their slow and toilsome course for 
several days, against the current of the river. The late signs 
of roaming war parties caused a vigilant watch to be kept up 
at night when the crews encamped on shore; nor was this 
vigilance superfluous ; for on the night of the seventh instant 
there was a wild and fearful yell, and eleven Sioux warriors, 
stark naked, with tomahawks in their hands, rushed into the 
camp. They were instantly surrounded and seized, where- 
upon their leader called out to his followers to desist from any 
violence, and pretended to be perfectly pacific in his inten- 
tions. It proved, however, that they were a part of the war 
party, the skeleton of whose canoe had been seen at the mouth 
of the river Platte, and the reflection of whose fires had been 
descried in the air. They had been disappointed or defeated 
in their foray, and in their rage and mortification these eleven 
warriors had "devoted their clothes to the medicine." This is 
a desperate act of Indian braves when foiled in war, and in 
dread of scoffs and sneers. In such case they sometimes throw 
off their clothes and ornaments, devote themselves to the Great 
Spirit, and attempt some reckless exploit with which to cover 
their disgrace. Woe to any defenceless party of white men 
that may then fall in their way ! 

Such was the explanation given by Pierre Dorion, the half- 
breed interpreter, of this wild intrusion into the camp ; and 
the party were so exasperated when apprised of the sanguinary 
intentions of the prisoners, that they were for shooting them 
on the spot. Mr. Hunt, however, exerted his usual modera- 
tion and humanity, and ordered that they should be conveyed 
across the river in one of the boats, threatening them, how- 
ever, with certain death, if again caught in any hostile act. 



126 ASTORIA, 

On the 10th of May the party arrived at the Omaha (pro- 
nounced Omawhaw) village, about eight hundred and thirty 
miles above the mouth of the Missouri, and encamped in its 
neighborhood. The village was situated under a hill on the 
bank of the river, and consisted of about eighty lodges. These 
were of a circular and conical form, and about sixteen feet in 
diameter; being mere tents of dressed buffalo skins, sewed 
together and stretched on long poles, inclined toward each 
other so as to cross at about half their height. Thus the naked 
tops of the poles diverge in such a manner that, if they were 
covered with skins like the lower ends, the tent would be 
shaped like an hour-glass, and present the appearance of one 
cone inverted on the apex of another. 

The forms of Indian lodges are worthy of attention, each 
tribe having a different mode of shaping and arranging them, 
so that it is easy to tell, on seeing a lodge or an encampment 
at a distance, to what tribe the inhabitants belong. The ex- 
terior of the Omaha lodges have often a gay and fanciful 
appearance, being painted with undulating bands of red or 
yellow, or decorated with rude figures of houses, deer, and 
buffaloes, and with human faces, painted like full moons, four 
and five feet broad. 

The Omahas were once one of the numerous and powerful 
tribes of the prairies, vying in warlike might and prowess 
with the Sioux, the Pawnees, the Sauks, the Konzas, and the 
Iatans. Their wars with the Sioux, however, had thinned 
their ranks, and the small-pox in 1802 had swept off two thirds 
of their number. At the time of Mr. Hunt's visit they still 
boasted about two hundred warriors and hunters, but they are 
now fast melting away, and before long will be numbered 
among those extinguished nations of the west that exist but in 
tradition. 

In his correspondence with Mr. Astor, from this point of his 
journey, Mr. Hunt gives a sad account of the Indian tribes 
bordering on the river. They were in continual war with 
each other, and their wars were of the most harassing kind ; 
consisting, not merely of main conflicts and expeditions of 
moment, involving the sackings, burnings and massacres of 
towns and villages, but of individual acts of treachery, 
murder, and cold-blooded cruelty; or of vaunting and fool- 
hardy exploits of single warriors, either to avenge some per- 
sonal wrong, or gain the vainglorious trophy of a scalp. The 
lonely hunter, the wandering wayfarer, the poor squaw cut- 



ASTORIA, 127 

ting wood or gathering corn, was liable to be surprised and 
slaughtered. In this way tribes were either swept away at 
once, or gradually thinned out, and savage life was surrounded 
with constant horrors and alarms. That the race of red men 
should diminish from year to year, and so few should survive 
of the numerous nations which evidently once peopled the 
vast regions of the west, is nothing surprising; it is rather 
matter of surprise that so many should survive ; for the exist- 
ence of a savage in these parts seems little better than a pro- 
longed and all-besetting death. It is, in fact, a caricature of 
the boasted romance of feudal times; chivalry in its native 
and uncultured state, and knight-errantry run wild. 

In their more prosperous days, the Omahas looked- upon 
themselves as the most powerful and perfect of human beings, 
and considered all created things as made for their peculiar use 
and benefit. It is this tribe of whose chief, the famous Wash- 
ing-guh-sah-ba, or Blackbird, such savage and romantic stories 
are told. He had died about ten years previous to the arrival 
of Mr. Hunt's party, but his name was still mentioned with 
awe by his people. He was one of the first among the Indian 
chiefs on the Missouri to deal with the white traders, and 
showed great sagacity in levying his royal dues. When a 
trader arrived in his village, he caused all his goods to be 
brought into his lodge and opened. From these he selected 
whatever suited his sovereign pleasure— blankets, tobacco, 
whiskey, powder, ball, beads, and red paint— and laid the 
articles on one side, without deigning to give any compensa- 
tion. Then calling to him his herald or crier, he would order 
him to mount on top of the lodge and summon all the tribe to 
bring in their peltries, and trade with the white man. The 
lodge would soon be crowded with Indians bringing bear y 
beaver, otter, and other skins. No one was allowed to dispute 
the prices fixed by the white trader upon his articles, who 
took care to indemnify himself five times over for the goods 
set apart by the chief. In this way the Blackbird enriched 
himself, and enriched the white men, and became exceedingly 
popular among the traders of the Missouri. His people, how- 
ever, were not equally satisfied by a regulation of trade which 
worked so manifestly against them, and began to show signs 
of discontent. Upon this a crafty and unprincipled trader 
revealed a secret to the Blackbird, by which he might acquire 
unbounded sway over his ignorant and superstitious subjects. 
He instructed him in the poisonous qualities of arsenic, and 



128 ASTORIA. 

furnished him with an ample supply of that baneful drug. 
From this time the Blackbird seemed endowed with super- 
natural powers, to possess the gift of prophecy, and to hold 
the disposal of life and death within his hands. Woe to any 
one who questioned his authority, or dared to dispute his com- 
mands ! The Blackbird prophesied his death within a certain 
time, and he had the secret means of verifying his prophecy. 
Within the fated period the offender was smitten with strange 
and sudden disease, and perished from the face of the earth. 
Every one stood aghast at these multiplied examples of his 
superhuman might, and dreaded to displease so omnipotent 
and vindictive a being; and the Blackbird enjoyed a wide and 
undisputed sway. 

It was not, however, by terror alone that he ruled his 
people ; he was a warrior of the first order, and his exploits in 
arms were the theme of young and old. His career had begun 
by hardships, having been taken prisoner by the Sioux, in 
early youth. Under his command the Omahas obtained great 
character for military prowess, nor did he permit an insult or 
injury to one of his tribe to pass unrevenged. The Pawnee 
republicans had inflicted a gross indignity on a favorite and 
distinguished Omaha brave. The Blackbird assembled his 
warriors, led them against the Pawnee town, attacked it with 
irresistible fury, slaughtered a great number of its inhabitants, 
and burnt it to the ground. He waged fierce and bloody war 
against the Ottoes for many years, until peace was effected 
between them by the mediation of the whites. Fearless in 
battle, and fond of signalizing himself, he dazzled his followers 
by daring acts. In attacking a Kanza village, he rode singly 
round it, loading and discharging his rifle at the inhabitants as 
he galloped past them. He kept up in war the same idea of 
mysterious and supernatural power. At one time, when pur- 
suing a war-party, by their tracks across the prairies, he 
repeatedly discharged his rifle into the prints made by their 
feet and by the hoofs of their horses, assuring his followers 
that he would thereby cripple the fugitives, so that they would 
easily be overtaken. He in fact did overtake them, and de- 
stroyed them almost to a man ; and his victory was considered 
miraculous, both by friend and foe. By these and similar ex- 
ploits, he made himself the pride and boast of his people, and 
became popular among them, notwithstanding his death- 
denouncing fiat. 

With all his savage and terrific qualities, he was sensible of 



ASTORIA. 129 

the power of female beauty, and capable of love. A war party 
of the Poncas had made a foray into the lands of the Omahas, 
and carried off a number of women and horses. The Black- 
bird was roused to fury, and took the field with all his braves, 
swearing to "eat up the Ponca nation" — the Indian threat of 
exterminating war. The Poncas, sorely pressed, took refuge 
behind a rude bulwark of earth ; but the Blackbird kept up so 
galling a fire that he seemed likely to execute his menace. In 
their extremity they sent forth a herald, bearing the calumet 
or pipe of peace, but he was shot down by order of the Black- 
bird. Another herald was sent forth in similar guise, but he 
shared a like fate. The Ponca chief then, as a last hope, 
arrayed his beautiful daughter in her finest ornaments, and 
sent her forth with a calumet, to sue for peace. The charms of 
the Indian maid touched the stern heart of the Blackbird ; he 
accepted the pipe at her hand, smoked it, and from that time 
a peace took place between the Poncas and the Omahas. 

This beautiful damsel, in all probability, was the favorite 
wife whose fate makes so tragic an incident in the story of the 
Blackbird. Her youth and beauty had gained an absolute 
sway over his rugged heart, so that he distinguished her above 
all his other wives. The habitual gratification of his vindictive 
impulses, however, had taken away from him all mastery 
over his passions, and rendered him liable to the most furious 
transports of rage. In one of these his beautiful wife had the 
misfortune to offend him, when suddenly drawing his knife, 
he laid her dead at his feet with a single blow. 

In an instant his frenzy was at an end. He gazed for a time 
in mute bewilderment upon his victim; then drawing his 
buffalo robe over his head, he sat down beside the corpse, and 
remained brooding over his crime and his loss. Three days 
elapsed, yet the chief continued silent and motionless ; tasting 
no food, and apparently sleepless. It was apprehended that 
he intended to starve himself to death ; his people approached 
him in trembling awe, and entreated him once more to un- 
cover his face and be comforted ; but he remained unmoved. 
At length one of his warriors brought in a small child, and 
laying it on the ground, placed the foot of the Blackbird upon 
its neck. The heart of the gloomy savage was touched by this 
appeal ; he threw aside his robe ; made an harangue upon what 
he had done ; and from that time forward seemed to have 
thrown the load of grief and remorse from his mind. 

He still retained his fatal and mysterious secret, and with it 



130 ASTOBIA. 

his terrific power; but, though able to deal death to his ene- 
mies, he could not avert it from himself or his friends. In 
1802 the small-pox, that dreadful pestilence, which swept over 
the land like a fire over the prairie, made its appearance in the 
village of the Omahas. The poor savages saw with dismay the 
ravages of a malady, loathsome and agonizing in its details, 
and which set the skill and experience of their conjurors and 
medicine men at defiance. In a little while two thirds of the 
population were swept from the face of the earth, and the 
doom of the rest seemed sealed. The stoicism of the warriors 
was at an end; they became wild and desperate; some set 
fire to the village as a last means of checking the pestilence ; 
others, in a frenzy of despair put their wives and children to 
death, that they might be spared the agonies of an inevitable 
disease, and that they might all go to some better country. 

When the general horror and dismay was at its height, the 
Blackbird himself was struck down with the malady. The poor 
savages, when they saw their chief in danger, forgot their 
own miseries, and surrounded his dying bed. His dominant 
spirit, and his love for the white men, were evinced in his latest 
breath, with which he designated -his place of sepulture. It 
was to be on a hill or promontory, upward of four hundred feet 
in height, overlooking a great extent of the Missouri, from 
whence he had been accustomed to watch for the barks of the 
white men. The Missouri washes the base of the promontory, 
and after winding and doubling in many links and mazes in 
the plain below, returns to within nine hundred yards of its 
starting place ; so that for thirty miles navigating with sail and 
oar, the voyager finds himself continually near to this singular 
promontory as if spell-bound. 

It was the dying command of the Blackbird that his tomb 
should be upon the summit of this hill, in which he should be 
interred, seated on his favorite horse, that he might over- 
look his ancient domain, and behold the barks of the white 
men as they came up the river to trade with his people. 

His dying orders were faithfully obeyed. His corpse was 
placed astride of his war-steed, and a mound raised over them 
on the summit of the hill. On top of the motmd was erected a 
staff, from which fluttered the banner of the chieftain, and the 
scalps that he had taken in battle. When the expedition 
under Mr. Hunt visited that part of the country, the staff still 
remained with the fragments of the banner; and the super- 
stitious rite of placing food from time to time on the mound, 



ASTORIA. 131 

for the use of the deceased, was still observed by the Omahas- 
That rite has since fallen into disuse, for the tribe itself is 
almost extinct. Yet the hill of the Blackbird continues an ob- 
ject of veneration to the wandering savage, and a landmark 
to the voyager of the Missouri ; and as the civilized traveller 
comes within sight of its spell-bound crest, the mound is 
pointed out to him from afar, which still incloses the grim 
skeletons of the Indian warrior and his horse. 



CHAPTER XVII. 



While Mr. Hunt and his party were sojourning at the 
village of the Omahas, three Sioux Indians of the Yankton 
Ahna tribe arrived, bringing unpleasant intelligence. They 
reported that certain bands of the Sioux Tetons, who inhabited 
a region many leagues further up the Missouri, were near at 
hand, awaiting the approach of the party, with the avowed 
intent of opposing their progress. 

The Sioux Tetons were at that time a sort of pirates of the 
Missouri, who considered the well-freighted bark of the Ameri- 
can trader fair game. They had their own traffic with the 
British merchants of the northwest, who brought them regular 
supplies of merchandise by way of the river St. Peter. Being 
thus independent of the Missouri traders for their supplies, 
they kept no terms with them, but plundered them whenever 
they had an opportunity. It has been insinuated that they 
were prompted to these outrages by the British merchants, 
who wished to keep off all rivals in the Indian trade; but 
others allege another motive, and one savoring of a deeper 
policy. The Sioux, by their intercourse with the British 
traders, had acquired the use of firearms, which had given 
them vast superiority over other tribes higher up the Missouri. 
They had made themselves also, in a manner, factors for the 
upper tribes, supplying them at second hand, and at greatly 
advanced prices, with goods derived from the white men. The 
Sioux, therefore, saw with jealousy the American traders 
pushing their way up the Missouri ; foreseeing that the upper 
tribes would thus be relieved from all dependence on them for 
supplies ; nay, what was worse, would be furnished with fire- 
arms, and elevated into formidable rivals. 



132 ASTORIA. 

We have already alluded to a case in which Mr. Crooks and 
Mr. M'Lellan had been interrupted in a trading voyage by 
these ruffians of the river, and, as it is in some degree con- 
nected with circumstances hereafter to be related, we shall 
specify it more particularly. 

About two years before the time of which we are treating, 
Oooks and M'Lellan were ascending the river in boats with a 
party of about forty men, bound on one of their trading expe- 
ditions to the upper tribes. In one of th6 bends of the river, 
where the channel made a deep curve under impending banks, 
they suddenly heard yells and shouts above them, and beheld 
the cliffs overhead covered with armed savages. It was a 
band of Sioux warriors, upward of six hundred strong. They 
brandished their weapons in a menacing manner, and ordered 
the boats to turn back and land lower down the river. There 
was no disputing these commands, for they had the power to 
shower destruction upon the white men, without risk to them- 
selves. Crooks and M'Lellan, therefore, turned back with 
feigned alacrity; and, landing, had an interview with the 
Sioux. The latter forbade them, under pain of exterminating 
hostility, from attempting to proceed up the river, but offered 
to trade peacefully with them if they would halt where they 
were. The party, being principally composed of voyageurs, 
was too weak to contend with so superior a force, and one so 
easily augmented ; they pretended, therefore, to comply cheer- 
fully with their arbitrary dictation, and immediately proceeded 
to cut down trees and erect a trading house. The warrior 
band departed for their village, which was about twenty miles 
distant, to collect objects of traffic; they left six or eight of 
their number, however, to keep watch upon the white men, 
and scouts were continually passing to and fro with intelli- 
gence. 

Mr. Crooks saw that it would be impossible to prosecute his 
voyage without the danger of having his boats plundered, and 
a great part of his men massacred ; he determined, however, 
not to be entirely frustrated in the objects of his expedition. 
While he continued, therefore, with great apparent earnestness 
and assiduity, the construction of the trading house, he dis- 
patched the hunters and trappers of his party in a canoe, to 
make their way up the river to the original place of destina- 
tion, there to busy themselves in trapping and collecting pel- 
tries, and to await his arrival at some future period. 

As soon as the detachment had had sufficient time to ascend 



ASTORIA. 133 

beyond the hostile country of the Sioux, Mr. Crooks suddenly 
broke up his feigned trading establishment, embarked his men 
and effects, and after giving the astonished rear-guard of 
savages a galling and indignant message to take to their 
countrymen, pushed down the river with all speed, sparing 
neither oar nor paddle, day nor night, until fairly beyond the 
swoop of these river hawks. 

What increased the irritation of Messrs. Crooks and M'Lel- 
lan at this mortifying check to their gainful enterprise, was 
the information that a rival trader was at the bottom of it ; the 
Sioux, it is said, having been instigated to this outrage by Mr. 
Manuel Lisa, the leading partner and agent of the Missouri 
Fur Company, already mentioned. This intelligence, whether 
true or false, so roused the fiery temper of M'Lellan, that he 
swore, if ever he fell in with Lisa in the Indian country, he 
would shot him on the spot ; a mode of redress perfectly in 
unison with the character of the man, and the code of honor 
prevalent beyond the frontier. 

If Crooks and M'Lellan had been exasperated by the insolent 
conduct of the Sioux Tetons, and the loss which it had occa- 
sioned, those freebooters had been no less indignant at being 
outwitted by the white men, and disappointed of their antici- 
pated gains, and it was apprehended they would be particu- 
larly hostile against the present expedition, when they should 
learn that these gentlemen were engaged in it. 

All these causes of uneasiness were concealed as much as 
possible from the Canadian voyageurs, lest they should become 
intimidated ; it was impossible, however, to prevent the rumors 
brought by the Indians from leaking out, and they became 
subjects of gossiping and exaggeration. The chief of the 
Omahas, too, on returning from a hunting excursion, reported 
that two men had been killed some distance above by a band 
of Sioux. This added to the fears that already began to be 
excited. The voyageurs pictured to themselves bands of fierce 
warriors stationed along each bank of the river, by whom 
they would be exposed to be shot down in their boats ; or lurk- 
ing hordes, who would set on them at night, and massacre 
them in their encampments. Some lost heart, and proposed to 
return, rather than fight their way , and, in a manner, run the 
gauntlet through the country of these piratical marauders. In 
fact, three men deserted while at this village. Luckily, their 
place was supplied by three others who happened to be there, 
and who were prevailed on to join the expedition by promises 



134 ASTORIA. 

of liberal pay, and by being fitted out and equipped in com- 
plete style. 

The irresolution and discontent visible among some of his 
people, arising at times almost to mutiny, and the occasional 
desertions which took place while thus among friendly tribes, 
and within reach of the frontiers, added greatly to the 
anxieties of Mr. Hunt, and rendered him eager to press for- 
ward and leave a hostile tract behind him, so that it would be 
as perilous to return as to keep on, and no one would dare to 
desert. 

Accordingly on the 15th of May he departed from the vil- 
lage of the Omahas and set forward toward the country of 
the formidable Sioux Tetons. For the first five days they had 
a fair and fresh breeze, and the boats made good progress. 
The wind then came ahead, and the river beginning to rise, 
and to increase in rapidity, betokened the commencement of 
the annual flood, caused by the melting of the snow on the 
Eocky Mountains, and the vernal rains of the upper prairies. 

As they were now entering a region where foes might be 
lying in wait on either bank, it was determined, in hunting for 
game, to confine themselves principally to the islands, which 
sometimes extend to considerable length, and are beautifully 
wooded, affording abundant pasturage and shade. On one of 
these they killed three buffaloes and two elks, and, halting on 
the edge of a beautiful prairie, made a sumptuous hunter's re- 
past. They had not long resumed their boats and pulled along 
the river banks, when they descried a canoe approaching, 
navigated by two men, whom, to their surprise, they ascer- 
tained to be white men. They proved to be two of those 
strange and fearless wanderers of the wilderness, the trappers. 
Their names were Benjamin Jones and Alexander Carson. 
They had been for two years past hunting and trapping near 
the head of the Missouri, and were thus floating for thousands 
of miles in a cockle-shell down a turbulent stream, through re- 
gions infested by savage tribes, yet apparently as easy and un- 
concerned as if navigating securely in the midst of civilization. 

The acquisition of two such hardy, experienced, and daunt- 
less hunters was peculiarly desirable at the present moment. 
They needed but little persuasion. The wilderness is the home 
of the trapper ; like the sailor, he cares but little to which point 
of the compass he steers ; and Jones and Carson readily aban- 
doned their voyage to St. Louis and turned their faces toward 
the Eocky Mountains and the Pacific. 



ASTORIA. 135 

The two naturalists, Mr. Bradbury and Mr. Nutuall, who had 
joined the expedition at St. Louis still accompanied it, and pur- 
sued their researches on all occasions. Mr. Nuttall oeems to 
have been exclusively devoted to his scientific pursuits. He 
was a zealous botanist, and all his enthusiasm was awakened 
at beholding a new world, as it were, opening upon him in the 
boundless prairies, clad in the vernal and variegated robe of 
unknown flowers. Whenever the boats landed at meal times> 
or for any temporary purpose, he would spring on shore, 
and set out on a hunt for new specimens. Every plant or 
flower of a rare or unknown species was eagerly seized as a 
prize. Delighted with the treasures spreading themselves out 
before him, he went groping and stumbling along among a 
wilderness of sweets, forgetful of everything but his immediate 
pursuit, and had often to be sought after when the boats were 
about to resume their course. At such times he would be 
found far off in the prairies, cr up the course of some petty 
stream, laden with plants of all kinds. 

The Canadian voyageurs who are a class of people that know 
nothing out of their immediate line, and with constitutional 
levity make a jest of anything they cannot understand, were 
extremely puzzled by this passion for collecting what they 
considered mere useless weeds. When they saw the worthy 
botanist coming back heavy laden with his specimens, and 
treasuring them up as carefully as a miser would his hoard, 
they used to make merry among themselves at his expense, 
regarding him as some whimsical kind of madman. 

Mr. Bradbury was less exclusive in his tastes and habits, and 
combined the hunter as>d sportsman with the naturalist. He 
took his rifle or his fowling-piece with him in his geological re- 
searches, conformed to the hardy and rugged habits of the men 
around him, and of course gained favor in their eyes. He had 
a strong relish for incident and adventure, was curious in ob- 
serving savage manners and savage life, and ready to join any 
hunting or other excursion. Even now, that the expedition 
was proceeding through a dangerous neighborhood, he could 
not check his propensity to ramble. Having observed, on the 
evening of the 22d of May, that the river ahead made a great 
bend which would take up the navigation of the following day, 
he determined to profit by the circumstance. On the morning 
of the 23d, therefore, instead of embarking, he filled his shot- 
pouch with parched corn, for provisions, and set off to cross 
the neck on foot and meet the boats in the afternoon at the 



1 36 ASTORIA. 

opposite side of the bend. Mr. Hunt felt uneasy at his ventur- 
ing thus alone, and reminded him that he was in an enemy's 
country; but Mr. Bradbury made light of the danger, and 
started off cheerily upon his ramble. His day was passed 
pleasantly in traversing a beautiful tract, making botanical 
and geological researches, and observing the habits of an exten- 
sive village of prairie dogs, at which he made several ineffectual 
shots, without considering the risk he run of attracting the 
attention of any savages that might be lurking in the neighbor- 
hood. In fact he had totally forgotten the Sioux Tetons, and 
all the other perils of the country, when, about the middle of 
the afternoon, as he stood near the river bank, and was looking 
out for the boat, he suddenly felt a hand laid on his shoulder. 
Starting and turning round, he beheld a naked savage with a 
bow bent, and the arrow pointed at his breast. In an instant 
his gun was levelled and his hand upon the lock. The Indian 
drew his bow still further, but forbore to launch the shaft. Mr. 
Bradbury, with admirable presence of mind, reflected that the 
savage, if hostile in his intents, would have shot him without 
giving him a chance of defence ; he paused, therefore, and held 
out his hand. The other took it in sign of friendship, and de- 
manded in the Osage language whether he was a Big Knife, or 
American. He answered in the affirmative, and inquired 
whether the other were a Sioux. To his great relief he found 
that he was a Ponca. By this time two other Indians came 
running up, and all three laid hold of Mr. Bradbury and 
seemed disposed to compel him to go off with them among the 
hills. He resisted, and sitting down on a sand-hill, contrived 
to amuse them with a pocket compass. When the novelty of 
this was exhausted, they again seized him, but he now pro- 
duced a small microscope. This new wonder again fixed the 
attention of the savages, who have far more curiosity than it 
has been the custom to allow them. While thus engaged one 
of them suddenly leaped up and gave a warwhoop. The hand of 
the hardy naturalist was again on his gun, and he was pre- 
pared to make battle, when the Indian pointed down the river 
and revealed the true cause of his yell. It was the mast of one 
of the boats appearing above the low willows which bordered 
the stream. Mr. Bradbury felt infinitely relieved by the sight. 
The Indians on their part now showed signs of apprehension, 
and were disposed to run away ; but he assured them of good 
treatment and something to drink if they would accompany 



ASTORIA. 137 

aim on board of the boats. They lingered for a time, but dis- 
appeared before the boats came to land. 

On the following morning they appeared at the camp accom- 
panied by several of their tribe. With them came also a whit© 
man, who announced himself as a messenger bearing missives 
for Mr. Hunt. In fact he brought a letter from Mr. Manuel 
Lisa, partner and agent of the Missouri Fur Company. As 
has already been mentioned, this gentleman was going in 
search of Mr. Henry and his party, who had been dislodged 
from the forks of the Missouri by the Blackf eet Indians, and 
had shifted his post somewhere beyond the Eocky Mountains. 
Mr. Lisa had left St. Louis three weeks after Mr. Hunt, and 
having heard of the hostile intentions of the Sioux, had jnade 
the greatest exertions to overtake him, that they might pass 
through the dangerous part of the river together. He had 
twenty stout oarsman in his service, and they plied their oars 
so vigorously that he had reached the Omaha village just four 
days after the departure of Mr. Hunt. From this place he dis- 
patched the messenger in question, trusting to his overtaking 
the barges as they toiled up against the stream, and were de- 
layed by the windings of the river. The purport of his letter 
was to entreat Mr. Hunt to wait until he could come up with 
him, that they might unite their forces and be a protection to 
each other in.their perilous course through the country of the 
Sioux. In fact, as it was afterward ascertained, Lisa was 
apprehensive that Mr. Hunt would do him some ill office with 
the Sioux bands, securing his own passage through their coun- 
try by pretending that he with whom they were accustomed to 
trade was on his way to them with a plentiful supply of goods. 
He feared, too, that Crooks and M'Lellan would take this op- 
portunity to retort upon him the perfidy which they accused 
him of having used, two years previously, among these very 
Sioux. In this respect, however, he did them signal injustice. 
There was no such thing as covert design or treachery in their 
thought ; but M'Lellan, when he heard that Lisa was on his 
way up the river, renewed his open threat of shooting him the 
moment he met him on Indian land. 

Jhe representations made by Crooks and M'Lellan ot the 
treachery they had experienced, or fancied, on the part of 
Lisa, had great weight with Mr. Hunt, especially when he 
recollected the obstacles that had been thrown in his own 
way by that gentleman at St. Louis. He doubted, therefore, 
the fair dealing of Lisa, and feared that, should they enter the 



138 ASTORIA. 

Sioux country together, the latter might make use of his in- 
fluence with that tribe, as he had in the case of Crooks and 
M'Lellan, and instigate them to oppose his progress up the 
river. 

He sent back, therefore, an answer calculated to beguile 
Lisa, assuring him that he would wait for him at the Poncas 
village, which was but a little distance in advance; but no 
sooner had the messenger departed, than he pushed forward 
with all diligence, barely stopping at the village to procure a 
supply of dried buffalo meat* and nastening to leave the other 
party as far Dehind as possible, thinking there was less to be 
apprehended from the open hostility of Indian foes than, from 
the quiet strategy of an Indian trader. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



It was about noon when the party left the Poncas village, 
about a league beyond which they passed the mouth of the 
Quicourt, or Rapid River (called, in the original French, V Eau 
Qui Court). After having proceeded some distance further, 
they landed, and encamped for the night. In the evening 
camp the voyageurs gossiped, as usual, over the events of the 
day, and especially over intelligence picked up among the Pon- 
cas. These Indians had confirmed the previous reports of the 
hostile intentions of the Sioux, and had assured them that five 
tribes, or bands, of that fierce nation were actually assembled 
higher up the river, and waiting to cut them off. This even- 
ing gossip, and the terrific stories of Indian warfare to which 
it gave rise, produced a strong effect upon the imaginations of 
the irresolute, and in the morning it was discovered that the 
two men who had joined the party at the Omaha village, and 
been so bounteously fitted out, had deserted in the course of 
the night, carrying with them all their equipments. As it was 
known that one of them could not swim, it was hoped that the 
banks of the Quicourt River would bring them to a halt. A 
general pursuit was therefore instituted, but without success. 

On the following morning (May 26th), as they were all on 
shore, breakfasting on one of the beautiful banks of the river, 
they observed two canoes descending along the opposite side. 
By the aid of spy-glasses they observed that there were two 



ASTORIA. 139 

white men in one of the canoes, and one in the other. A gun 
was discharged, which called the attention of the voyagers, 
who crossed over. They proved to be three Kentucky hunters, 
of the true "dreadnought" stamp. Their names were Edward 
Robinson, John Hoback, and Jacob Rizner. Robinson was a 
veteran backwoodsman, sixty-six years of age. He had been 
one of the first settlers of Kentucky, and engaged in many of 
the conflicts of the Indians on " The Bloody Ground." In one 
of these battles he had been scalped, and he still wore a hand- 
kerchief bound round his head to protect the part. These men 
had passed several years in the upper wilderness. They had 
been in the service of the Missouri Company under Mr. Henry, 
and had crossed the Rocky Mountains with him in the preced- 
ing year, when driven from his post on the Missouri by the 
hostilities of the Blackf eet. After crossing the mountains, Mr. 
Henry had established himself on one of the head branches of 
the Columbia River. There they had remained with him for 
some months, hunting and trapping, until, having satisfied 
their wandering propensities, they felt disposed to return to 
the families and comfortable homes which they had left in 
Kentucky. They had accordingly made their way back across 
the mountains and down the rivers, and were in full career for 
St. Louis, when thus suddenly interrupted. The sight of a 
powerful party of traders, trappers, hunters, and voyageurs, 
well armed and equipped, furnished at all points, in high 
health and spirits, and banqueting lustily on the green margin 
of the river, was a spectacle equally stimulating to these vet- 
eran backwoodsmen with the glorious array of a campaigning 
army to an old soldier ; but when they learned the grand scope 
and extent of the enterprise in hand, it was irresistrble : homes 
and families and all the charms of green Kentucky vanished 
from their thoughts ; they cast loose their canoes to drift down 
the stream, and joyfully enlisted in the band of adventurers. 
They engaged on similar terms with some of the other hunt- 
ers. The company was to fit them out, and keep them sup- 
plied with the requisite equipments and munitions, and they 
were to yield one half of the produce of their hunting and 
trapping. 

The addition of three such staunch recruits was extremely 
acceptable at this dangerous part of the river. The knowledge 
of the country which they had acquired, also, in their journeys 
and hunting excursions along the rivers and among the Rocky 
Mountains, was all important ; in fact, the information derived 



140 ASTORIA, 

from them induced Mr. Hunt to alter his future course. H© 
had hitherto intended to proceed by the route taken by Lewis 
and Clark in their famous exploring expedition, ascending the 
Missouri to its forks, and thence going, by land, across the 
mountains. These men informed him, however, that on taking 
that course he would have to pass through the country infested 
by the savage tribe of the Blackf eet, and would be exposed to 
their hostilities ; they being, as has already been observed, ex- 
asperated to deadly animosity against the whites, on account of 
the death of one of their tribe by the hands of Captain Lewis. 
They advised him rather to pursue a route more to the south 
ward, being the same by which they had returned. This would 
carry them over the mountains about where the head- waters 
of the Platte and the Yellowstone take their rise, at a place 
much more easy and practicable than that where Lewis and 
Clark had crossed. In pursuing this course, also, he would 
pass through a country abounding with game, where he would 
have a better chance of procuring a constant supply of provi- 
sions than by the other route, and would run less risk of moles- 
tation from the Blackfeet. Should he adopt this advice, it 
would be better for him to abandon the river at the Aricara 
town, at which he would arrive in the course of a few days. 
As the Indians at that town possessed horses in abundance, he 
might purchase a sufficient number of them for his great 
journey overland, which would commence at that place. 

After reflecting on this advice, and consulting with his 
associates, Mr. Hunt came to the determination to follow the 
route thus pointed out, in which the hunters engaged to pilot 
him. 

The party continued their voyage with delightful May 
weather. The prairies bordering on the river were gayly 
painted with innumerable flowers, exhibiting the motley con- 
fusion of colors of a Turkey carpet. The beautiful islands 
also, on which they occasionally halted, presented the appear- 
ance of mingled grove and garden. The trees were often 
covered with clambering grape-vines in blossom, which per- 
fumed the air. Between the stately masses of the groves were 
grassy lawns and glades, studded with flowers, or interspersed 
with rose-bushes in full bloom. These islands were often the 
resort of the buffalo, the elk, and the antelope, who had made 
innumerable paths among the trees and thickets, which had 
the effect of the mazy walks and alleys of parks and shrub- 
beries. Sometimes, where the river passed between high 



ASTORIA. 141 

banks and bluffs, the roads, made by the tramp of buffaloes 
for many ages along the face of the heights, looked like so 
many well-travelled highways. At other places the banks 
were banded with great veins of iron ore. laid bare by the 
abrasion of the river. At one place the course of the river 
was nearly in a straight line for about fifteen miles. The 
banks sloped gently to its margin, without a single tree, but 
bordered with grass and herbage of a vivid green. Along 
each bank, for the whole fifteen miles, extended a stripe, one 
hundred yards in breadth, of a deep rusty brown, indicating 
an inexhaustible bed of iron, through the centre of which the 
Missouri had worn its way. Indications of the continuance of 
this bed were afterward observed higher up the river. It is, 
in fact, one of the mineral magazines which nature has pro- 
vided in the heart of this vast realm of fertility, and which, in 
connection with the immense beds of coal on the same river, 
seem garnered up as the elements of the future wealth and 
power of the mighty West. 

The sight of these mineral treasures greatly excited the 
curiosity of Mr. Bradbury, and it was tantalizing to him to be 
checked in his scientific researches, and obliged to forego his 
usual rambles on shore ; but they were now entering the fated 
country of the Sioux Tetons, in which it was dangerous to 
wander about unguarded. 

This country extends for some days' journey along the river, 
and consists of vast prairies, here and there diversified by 
swelling hills, and cut up by ravines, the channels of turbid 
streams in the rainy seasons, K^t almost destitute of water 
during the heats of summer. Here and there, on the sides of 
the hills, or along the alluvial borders and bottoms of the 
ravines, are groves and skirts of forest ; but for the most part 
the country presented to the eye a boundless waste, covered 
with herbage, but without trees. 

The soil of this immense region is strongly impregnated with 
sulphur, copperas, alum, and glauber salts : its various earths 
impart a deep tinge to the streams which drain it, and these, 
with the crumbling of the banks along the Missouri, give to 
the waters of that river much of the coloring matter with 
which they are clouded. 

Over this vast tract the roving bands of the Sioux Tetons 
hold their vagrant sway, subsisting by the chase of the buffalo, 
the elk, the deer, and the antelope, and waging ruthless war 
fare with other wandering tribes. 



142 ASTORIA. 

As the boats made their way up the stream bordered by this 
land of danger, many of the Canadian voyageurs, whose fears 
had been awakened, would regard with a distrustful eye the 
boundless waste extending on each side. All, however, was 
silent, and apparently untenanted by a human being. Now 
and then a herd of deer would be seen feeding tranquilly 
among the flowery herbage, or a line of buffaloes, like a cara- 
van on its march, moving across the distant profile of the 
prairie. The Canadians, however, began to apprehend au 
ambush in every thicket, and to regard the broad, tranquil 
plain as a sailor eyes some shallow and perfidious sea, which, 
though smooth and safe to the eye, conceals the lurking rock 
or treacherous shoal. The very name of a Sioux became a 
watchword of terror. Not an elk, a wolf, or any other animal, 
could appear on the hills, but the boats resounded with ex- 
clamations from stern to stern, " Voila les Sioux I" " Voila les 
Sioux!" (there are the Sioux! there are the Sioux!). When- 
ever it was practicable, the night encampment was on some 
island in the centre of the stream. 

On the morning of the 31st of May, as the travellers were 
breakfasting on the right bank of the river, the usual alarm 
was given, but with more reason, as two Indians actually 
made their appearance on a bluff on the opposite or northeast 
side, and harangued them in a loud voice. As it was im- 
possible at that distance to distinguish what they said, Mr. 
Hunt, after breakfast, crossed the river with Pierre Dorion, 
the interpreter, and advanced boldly to converse with them, 
while the rest remained watching, in mute suspense, the move- 
ments of the parties. As soon as Mr. Hunt landed, one of the 
Indians disappeared behind the hill, but shortly reappeared on 
horseback, and went scouring off across the heights. Mr. 
Hunt held some conference with the remaining savage, and 
then recrossed the river to his party. 

These two Indians proved to be spies or scouts of a large war 
party encamped about a league off, and numbering two hun- 
dred and eighty lodges, or about six hundred warriors, of three 
different tribes of Sioux; the Yangtons Ahna, the Tetons Bois- 
brule, and the Tetons Min-na-kine-azzo. They expected daily 
*> be reinforced by two other tribes, and had been waiting 
eleven days for the arrival of Mr. Hunt's party, with a deter- 
mination to oppose their progress up the river; being resolved 
to prevent all trade of the white men with their enemies the 
Arickaras, Mandans, and Minatarees. The Indian who had 



ASTORIA. 143 

galloped off on horseback had gone to give notice of the ap- 
proach of the party, so that they might now look out for some 
fierce scenes with those piratical savages, of whom they had 
received so many formidable accounts. 

The party braced up their spirits to the encounter, and re- 
embarking, pulled resolutely up the stream. An island for 
some time intervened between them and the opposite side of 
the river; but on clearing the upper end, they came in full 
view of the hostile shore. There was a ridge of hills, down 
which the savages were pouring in great numbers, some on 
horseback, and some on foot. Eeconnoitering them with the 
aid of glasses, they perceived that they were all in warlike 
array, painted and decorated for battle. Their weapons were 
bows and arrows, and a few short carbines, and most of them 
had round shields. Altogether they had a wild and gallant 
appearance, and, taking possession of a point which com- 
manded the river, ranged themselves along the bank as if 
prepared to dispute their passage. 

At sight of this formidable front of war, Mr. Hunt and his 
companions held counsel together. It was plain that the 
rumors they had heard were correct, and the Sioux were de- 
termined to oppose their progress by force of arms. To at- 
tempt to elude them and continue along the river was out of 
the question. The strength of the mid-current was too violent 
to be withstood, and the boats were obliged to ascend along 
the river banks. These banks were often high and perpen- 
dicular, affording the savages frequent stations, from whence, 
safe themselves, and almost unseen, they might shower down 
their missiles upon the boats below, and retreat at will, without 
danger from pursuit. Nothing apparently remained, there- 
fore, but to fight or turn back. The Sioux far outnumbered 
them, it is true, but their own party was about sixty strong, 
well armed and supplied with ammunition ; and besides their 
guns and rifles, they had a swivel and two howitzers mounted 
in the boats. Should they succeed in breaking this Indian 
force by one vigorous assault, it was likely they would be de • 
terred from making any future attack o." consequence. The 
fighting alternative was, therefore, instantly adopted, and the 
boats pulled to shore nearly opposite to the hostile force. Here 
the arms were all examined and put in order. The swivel and 
howitzers were then loaded with powder and discharged, to let 
the savages know by the report how formidably they were 
provided. The noise echoed along the shores of the river, antf 



144 ASTORIA. 

must have startled the warriors, who were only accustomed to 
sharp reports of rifles. The same pieces were then loaded with 
as many bullets as they would probably bear; after which the 
whole party embarked and pulled across the river. The In- 
dians remained watching them in silence, their painted forms 
and visages glaring in the sun, and their feathers fluttering 
in the breeze. The poor Canadians eyed them with rueful 
glances, and now and then a fearful ejaculation would escape 
them. "Parbleu! this is a sad scrape we are in, brother!" 
would one mutter to the next oarsman. " Ay, ay!" the other 
would reply, " we are not going to a wedding, my friend!" 

When the boats arrived within rifle shot, the hunters and 
other fighting personages on board seized their weapons, and 
prepared for action. As they rose to fire, a confusion took 
place among the savages. They displayed their buffalo robes, 
raised them with both hands above their heads, and then 
spread them before them on the ground. At sight of this 
Pierre Dorion eagerly cried out to the party not to fire, as 
this movement was a peaceful signal, and an invitation to a 
parley. Immediately about a dozen of the principal warriors, 
separating from the rest, descended to the edge of the river, 
lighted a fire, seated themselves in a semicircle round it, and, 
displaying the calumet, invited the party to land. Mr. Hunt 
now called a council of the partners on board of his boat. The 
question was, whether to trust to the amicable overtures of 
these ferocious people ? It was determined in the affirmative, 
for, otherwise, there was no alternative but to fight them. The 
main body of the party were ordered to remain on board of 
the boats, keeping within shot, and prepared to fire in case of 
any signs of treachery ; while Mr. Hunt and the other partners 
(M'Kenzie, Crooks, Miller, and M'Lellan), proceeded to land, 
accompanied by the interpreter and Mr. Bradbury. The chiefs 
who awaited them or. the margin of the river, remained seated 
m their semicircle without stirring a limb or moving a muscle, 
motionless as so many statues. Mr. Hunt and his companions 
advanced without he; itation, and took their seats on the sand 
so as to complete the circle. The band of warriors who lined 
the banks above stood looking down in silent groups and clus- 
ters, some ostentatiously equipped and decorated, others en- 
tirely naked, but fantastically painted, and all variously 
armed. 

The pipe of peace was now brought forward with due. cere- 
mony. The bowl was of a species of red stone resembling 



ASTORIA. 145 

porphyry; the stem was six feet in length, decorated with 
tufts of horse hair dyed red. The pipebearer stepped within 
the circle, lighted the pipe, held it toward the sun, then to- 
ward the different points of the compass, after which he 
handed it to the principal chief. The latter smoked a few 
whiffs, then, holding the head of the pipe in his hand, offered 
the other end to Mr. Hunt, and to each one successively in the 
circle. When all had smoked, it was considered that an as- 
surance of good faith and amity had been interchanged. Mr. 
Hunt now made a speech in French, which was interpreted as 
he proceeded by Pierre Dorion. He informed the Sioux of the 
real object of the expedition, of himself and his companions, 
which was, not to trade with any of the tribes up the river, 
but to cross the mountains to the great salt lake in the wfest, in 
search of some of their brothers, whom they had not seen for 
eleven months. That he had heard of the intention of the 
Sioux to oppose his passage, and was prepared, 23 they might 
see, to effect it at all hazards ; nevertheless his feelings toward 
the Sioux were friendly, in proof of which he had brought 
them a present of tobacco and corn. So saying, he ordered 
about fifteen carottes of tobacco, and as many bags of corn, to 
be brought from the boat and laid in a heap near the coun- 
cil fire. 

The sight of these presents mollified the chieftain, who had 
doubtless been previously rendered considerate by the reso- 
lute conduct of the white men, the judicious disposition of 
their little armament, the completeness of their equipments, 
and the compact array of battle which they presented. He 
made a speech in reply, in which he stated the object of their 
hostile assemblage, which had been merely to prevent supplies 
of arms and ammunition from going to the xlrickaras, . Man- 
dans, and Minatarees, with whom they were at war; but being 
now convinced that the party were carrying no supplies of the 
kind, but merely proceeding in quest of their brothers beyond 
the mountains, they would not impede them in their voyage. 
He concluded .by thanking them for their present, and advis- 
ing them to encamp on the opposite side of the river, as he had 
some young men among his warriors for whose discretion he 
could not be answerable, and who might be troublesome. 

Here ended the conf erenee : they all arose, shook hands, and 
parted. Mr. Hunt and his companions re-embarked, and the 
boats proceeded on their course unmolested. 



146 ASTOBIA. 



CHAPTEE XIX. 

On the afternoon of the following day (June 1st) they arrived 
at the great bend, where the river winds for about thirty miles 
round a circular peninsula, the neck of which is not above two 
thousand yards across. On the succeeding morning, at an 
early hour, they descried two Indians standing on a high bank 
of the river, waving and spreading their buffalo robes in signs 
of amity. They immediately pulled to shore and landed. On 
approaching the savages, however, the latter showed evident 
symptoms of alarm, spreading out their arms horizontally, ac- 
cording to their mode of supplicating clemency. The reason 
was soon explained. They proved to be two chiefs of the very 
war party that had brought Messrs. Crooks and M'Lellan to a 
stand two years before, and obliged them to escape down the 
river. They ran to embrace these gentlemen, as if delighted 
to meet with them ; yet they evidently feared some retaliation 
of their past misconduct, nor were they quite at ease until the 
pipe of peace had been smoked. 

Mr. Hunt having been informed that the tribe to which these 
men belonged had killed three white men during the preceding 
summer reproached them with the crime, and demanded their 
reasons for such savage hostility. "We kill white men," re- 
plied one the chiefs, " because white men kill us. That very 
man," added he, pointing to Carson, one of the new recruits, 
" killed one of our brothers last summer. The three white 
men were slain to avenge his death." 

The chief was correct in his reply. Carson admitted that, 
being with a party of Arickaras on the banks of the Missouri, 
and seeing a war party of Sioux on the opposite side, he had 
fired with his rifle across. It was a random shot, made with- 
out much expectation of effect, for the river was full half a 
mile in breadth. Unluckily it brought down a Sioux warrior, 
for whose wanton destruction threefold vengeance had been 
taken, as has been stated. In this way outrages are frequently 
committed on the natives by thoughtless or mischievous white 
men; the Indians retaliate according to a law of their code, 
which requires blood for blood ; their act, of what with them 
is pious vengeance, resounds throughout the land, and is repre* 



ASTOEIA. 147 

sented as wanton and unprovoked ; the neighborhood is roused 
to arms ; a war ensues, which ends in the destruction of half 
the tribe, the ruin of the rest, and their expulsion from their 
hereditary homes. Such is too often the real history of Indian 
warfare, which in general is traced up only to some vindictive 
act of a savage ; while the outrage of the scoundrel white man 
that provoked it is sunk in silence. 

The two chiefs, having smoked their pipe of peace and re- 
ceived a few presents, departed well satisfied. In a little while 
two others appeared on horseback, and rode up abreast of the 
boats. They had seen the presents given to their comrades, 
but were dissatisfied with them, and came after the boats to 
ask for more. Being somewhat peremptory and insolent in 
their demands, Mr. Hunt gave them a flat refusal, and threat- 
ened, if they or any of their tribe followed him with similar 
demands, to treat them as enemies. They turned and rode off 
in a furious passion. As he was ignorant what force these 
chiefs might have behind the hills, and as it was very possible 
they might take advantage of some pass of the river to attack 
the boats, Mr. Hunt called all stragglers on board and prepared 
for such emergency. It was agreed that the large boat com- 
manded by Mr. Hunt, should ascend along the northeast side 
of the river, and the three smaller boats along the south side. 
By this arrangement each party would command a view of the 
opposite heights above the heads and out of the sight of their 
companions, and could give the alarm should they perceive 
any Indians lurking there. The signal of alarm was to be 
two shots fired in quick succession. 

The boats proceeded for the greater part of the day without 
seeing any signs of an enemy. About four o'clock in the after- 
noon the large boat, commanded by Mr. Hunt, came to where 
the river was divided by a long sand-bar, which apparently, 
however, left a sufficient channel between it and the shore 
along which they were advancing. He kept up this channel, 
therefore, for some distance, until the water proved too shal- 
low for the boat. It was necessary, therefore, to put about, 
return down the channel, and pull round t^e lower end of the 
sand-bar into the main stream. Just as he had given orders to 
this effect to his men, two signal guns were fired from the boats 
on the opposite side of the river. At the same moment a file 
of savage warriors was observed pouring down from the im- 
pending bank, and gathering on the shore at the lower end of 
the bar. They were evidently a war party, being armed with 



148 ASTORIA. 

bows and arrows, battle-clubs, and carbines, and round buck 
lers of buffalo hide, and their naked bodies were painted with 
black and white stripes. The natural inference was that they 
belonged to the two tribes of Sioux which had been expected 
by the great war party, and that they had been incited to hos- 
tility by the two chiefs who had been enraged by the refusal 
and the menace of Mr. Hunt. Here then was a fearful pre- 
dicament. Mr. Hunt and his crew seemed caught, as it were, 
in a trap. The Indians, to the number of about a hundred, 
had already taken possession of a point near winch the boat 
would have to pass : others kept pouring down the bank, and 
it was probable that some would remain posted on the top of 
the height. 

The hazardous situation of Mr. Hunt was perceived by those 
in the other boats, and they hastened tcr his assistance. They 
were at some distance above the sand-bar, however, and on 
the opposite side of the river, and saw, with intense anxiety, 
the number of savages continually augmenting, at the lower 
end of the channel, so that the boat would be exposed to a fear- 
ful attack before they could render any assistance. Their 
anxiety increased, as they saw Mr. Hunt and his party descend- 
ing the channel and dauntlessly approaching the point of dan- 
ger; but it suddenly changed into surprise on beholding the 
boat pass close by the savage horde unmolested, and steer out 
safely into the broad river. 

The next moment the whole band of warriors was in motion. 
They ran along the bank until they were opposite to the boats, 
then throwing by their weapons and buffalo robes, plunged 
into the river, waded and swam off to the boats and sur- 
rounded them in crowds, seeking to shake hands with every 
individual on board; for the Indians have long since found 
this to be the white man's token of amity, and they carry it 
to an extreme. 

All uneasiness was now at an end. The Indians proved to 
be a war party of Arickaras, Mandans, and Minatarees, con- 
sisting of three hundred warriors, and bound on a foray 
against the Sioux. • Their war plans were abandoned for the 
present, and they determined to return to the Arickara town, 
where they hoped to obtain from the white men arms and 
ammunition that would enable them to take the field with ad- 
vantage over their enemies. 

The boats now sought the first convenient place for encamp- 
ing. The tents were pitched ; the warriors fixed their camp at 



ASTORIA. 149 

about a hundred yards distant; provisions were furnished 
from the boats sufficient for all parties; there was hearty 
though rude feasting in both camps, and in the evening the 
red warriors entertained their white friends with dances and 
songs, that lasted until after midnight. 

On the following morning (July 3d) the travellers re-em- 
barked, and took a temporary leave of their Indian friends, 
who intended to proceed immediately for the Arickara town, 
where they expected to arrive in three days, long before the 
boats could reach there. Mr. Hunt had not proceeded far be- 
fore the chief came galloping along the shore and made signs 
for a parley. He said his people could not go home satisfied 
unless they had something to take with them to prove that 
they had met with the white men. Mr. Hunt understood the 
drift of the speech, and made the chief a present of a cask of 
powder, a bag of balls, and three dozen of knives, with which 
he was highly pleased. While the chief was receiving these 
presents an Indian came running along the shore, and an- 
nounced that a boat, filled with white men, was coming up 
the river. This was by no means agreeable tidings to Mr. 
Hunt, who correctly concluded it to be the boat of Mr. Manuel 
Lisa; and he was vexed to find that alert and adventurous 
trader upon his heels, whom he had hoped to have out- 
manoeuvred, and left far behind. Lisa, however, was too 
much experienced in the wiles of Indian trade to be lulled by 
the promise of waiting for him at the Poncas village ; on the 
contrary, he had allowed himself no repose, and had strained 
every nerve to overtake the rival party, and availing himself 
of the moonlight, had even sailed during a considerable part 
of the night. In this he was partly prompted by his appre- 
hensions of the Sioux, having met a boat which had probably 
passed Mr. Hunt's party in the night, and which had been 
fired into by these savages. 

On hearing that Lisa was so near at hand, Mr. Hunt per- 
ceived that it was useless to attempt any longer to evade him ; 
after proceeding a few miles further, therefore, he came to a 
halt and waited for him to come up. In a little while the 
barge of Lisa made its appearance. It came sweeping gently 
up the river, maimed by its twenty stout oarsmen, and armed 
by a swivel mounted at the bow. The whole number on board 
amounted to twenty-six men ; among whom was Mr. Henry 
Breckenridge, then a young, enterprising man; who was a 
mere passenger, tempted by notions of curiosity to accom- 



150 ASTORIA. 

pany Mr, Lisa. He has since made himself known by various 
writings, among which may be noted a narrative of this very 
voyage. 

The approach of Lisa, while it was regarded with uneasiness 
by Mr. Hunt, roused the ire of M'Lellan ; who calling to mind 
old grievances, began to look round for his rifle, as if he 
really intended to carry his threat into execution and shoot 
him on the spot ; and it was with some difficulty that Mr. 
Hunt was enabled to restrain his ire, and prevent a scene of 
outrage and confusion. 

The meeting between the two leaders, thus mutually dis 
trustful, could not be very cordial ; and as to Messrs. Crooks 
and M'Lellan, though they refrained from any outbreak, yet 
they regarded in grim defiance their old rival and under- 
plotter. In truth, a general distrust prevailed throughout the 
party concerning Lisa and his intentions. They considered 
him artful and slippery, and secretly anxious for the failure of 
their expedition. There being now nothing more to be appre- 
hended from the Sioux, they suspected that Lisa would take 
advantage of his twenty-oared barge to leave them and get 
first among the Arickaras. As he had traded with those 
people and possessed great influence over them, it was feared 
he might make use of it to impede the business of Mr. Hunt 
and his party. It was resolved, therefore, to keep a sharp 
lookout upon his movements ; and M'Lellan swore that if he 
saw the least sign of treachery on his part, he would instantly 
put his old threat into execution. 

Notwithstanding these secret jealousies and heart-burnings, 
the two parties maintained an outward appearance of civility, 
and for two days continued forward in company with some 
degree of harmony. On the third day, however, an explosion 
took place, and it was produced by no less a personage than 
Pierre Dorion, the half-breed interpreter. It will be recol- 
lected that this worthy had been obliged to steal a march from 
St. Louis, to avoid being arrested for an old whiskey debt 
which he owed to the Missouri Fur Company, and by which 
Mr. Lisa had hoped to prevent his enlisting in Mr. Hunt's ex- 
pedition. Dorion, since the arrival of Lisa, had kept aloof, 
and regarded him with a sullen and dogged aspect. On the 
fifth of July, the two parties were brought to a halt by a 
heavy rain, and remained encamped about a hundred yards 
apart. In the course of the day Lisa undertook to tamper 
with the faith of Pierre Dorion, and, inviting him on board of 



ASTORIA. 151 

his boat, regaled him with his favorite whiskey. When he 
thought hira sufficiently mellowed, he proposed to him to quit 
the service of his new employers and return to his old alle- 
giance. Finding him not to be moved by soft words, he 
called to mind his old debt to the company, and threatened to 
carry him off by force, in payment of it. The mention of this 
debt always stirred up the gall of Pierre Dorion, bringing with 
it the remembrance of the whiskey extortion. A violent 
quarrel arose between him and Lisa, and he left the boat in 
high dudgeon. His first step was to repair to the tent of Mr. 
Hunt and reveal the attempt that had been made to shake his 
faith. While he was yet talking Lisa entered the tent, under 
the pretext of coming to borrow a towing line. High words 
instantly ensued between him and Dorion, which ended by the 
half-breed's dealing him a blow. A quarrel in the ' ' Indian 
country," however, is not to be settled with fisticuffs. Lisa 
immediately rushed to his boat for a weapon. Dorion snatched 
up a pair of pistols belonging to Mr. Hunt, and placed himself 
in battle array. The noise had roused the camp, and every 
one pressed to know^ the cause. Li^a now reappeared upon 
the field with a knife stuck in his girdle. Mr. Breckenridge, 
who had tried in vain to mollify his ire, accompanied him to 
the scene of action. Pierre Dorion's pistols gave him the ad- 
vantage, and he maintained a most warlike attitude. In the 
mean time Crooks and M'Lellan had learnt the cause of the 
affray, and were each eager to take the quarrel into their own 
hands. A scene of uproar and hubbub ensued that defies de- 
scription. M'Lellan would have brought his rifle into play 
and settled all old and new grudges by a pull of the trigger, 
had he not been restrained by Mr. Hunt. That gentleman 
acted as moderator, endeavoring to prevent a general melee ; 
in the midst of the brawl, however, an expression was made 
use of by Lisa derogatory to his owm honor. In an instant the 
tranquil spirit of Mr. Hunt was in a flame. He now became 
as eager for fight as any one on the ground, and challenged 
Lisa to settle the dispute on the spot with pistols. Lisa re- 
paired to his boat to arm himself for the deadly feud. He w^as 
followed by Messrs. Bradbury and Breckenridge, who, novices 
in Indian life and the " chivalry" of the frontier, had no relish 
for scenes of blood and brawl. By their earnest mediation the 
quarrel was with great difficulty brought to a close without 
bloodshed ; but the two leaders of the rival camps separated 
in anger, and all personal intercourse ceased between them. 



152 ASTORIA. 



CHAPTEE XX. 

The rival parties now coasted along the opposite sides of the 
river, within sight of each other ; the barges of Mr. Hunt al- 
ways keeping some distance in the advance, lest Lisa should 
push on and get first to the Arickara village. The scenery 
and objects, as they proceeded, gave evidence that they were 
advancing deeper and deeper into the domains of savage 
nature. Boundless wastes kept extending to the eye, more 
and more animated by herds of buffalo. Sometimes these un- 
wieldy animals were seen moving in long procession across the 
silent landscape; at other times they were scattered about, 
singly or in groups, on the broad enamelled prairies and green 
acclivities, some cropping the rich pasturage, others reclining 
amid the flowery herbage; the whole scene realizing in a 
manner the old scripture^, descriptions of the vast pastoral 
countries of the Orient, with " cattle upon a thousand hills." 

At one place the shores seemed absolutely lined with buf- 
faloes ; many were making their way across the stream, snort- 
ing, and blowing, and floundering. Numbers, in spite of every 
effort, were borne by the rapid current 'within shot of the 
boats, and several were killed. At another place a number 
were descried on the beach of a small island, under the shade 
of the trees, or standing in the water, like cattle, to avoid the 
flies and the heat of the day. 

Several of the best marksmen stationed themselves in the 
bow of a barge which advanced slowly and silently, stemming 
the current with the aid of a broad sail and a fair breeze. The 
buffalo stood gazing quietly at the barge as it approached, 
perfectly unconscious of their danger. The fattest of the herd 
was selected by the hunters, who all fired together and 
brought down their victim. 

Besides the buffaloes they saw abundance of deer, and fre- 
quent gangs of stately elks, together with light troops of 
sprightly antelopes, the fleetest and most beautiful inhabitants 
of the prairies. There are two kinds of antelopes in these 
regions, one nearly the size of the common deer, the other not 
much larger than a goat. Their color is a fight gray, or rather 
dun 7 slightly spotted with white ; and they have small horns, 



A8TQRIA. 153 

like those of the deer, which they never shed. Nothing can 
surpass the delicate and elegant finish of their limbs, in which 
lightness, elasticity, and strength are wonderfully combined. 
All the attitudes and movements of this beautiful animal are 
graceful and picturesque ; and it is altogether as fit a subject 
for the fanciful uses of the poet, as the oft-sung gazelle of the 
East. 

Their habits are shy and capricious ; they keep on the open 
plains, are quick to take the alarm, and bound away with a 
fleetness that defies pursuit. When thus skimming across a 
prairie in the autumn, their light gray or dun color blends 
with the hue of the withered herbage, the swiftness of their 
motion baffles the eye, and they almost seem unsubstantial 
forms, driven like gossamer before the wind. 

While they thus keep to the open plain and trust to their 
speed, they are safe ; but they have a prurient curiosity that 
sometimes betrays them to their ruin. When they have scud 
for some distance and left their pursuer behind, they will sud- 
denly stop and turn to gaze at the object of their alarm. If 
the pursuit is not followed up they will, after a time, yield to 
their inquisitive hankering, and return to the place from 
whence they have been frightened. 

John Day, the veteran hunter already mentioned, displayed 
his experience and skill in entrapping one of these beautiful 
animals. Taking advantage of its well known curiosity, he 
laid down flat among the grass, and putting his handkerchief 
on the end of his ramrod, waved it gently in the air. This 
had the effect of the fabled fascination of the rattlesnake. 
The antelope gazed at the mysterious object for some time at a 
distance, then approached, timidly, pausing and reconnoiter- 
ing with increased curiosity ; moving round the point of attrac- 
tion in a circle, but still drawing nearer and nearer, until being 
within the range of the deadly rifle, he fell a victim to his 
curiosity. 

On the 10th of June, as the party were making brisk prog- 
ress with a fine breeze, they met a canoe with three Indians 
descending the river. They came to a parley, and brought 
news from the Arickara village. The war party, which had 
caused such alarm at the sand-bar, had reached the village 
some days previously, announced the approach of a party of 
traders, and displayed with great ostentation the presents they 
had received from them. On further conversation with these 
three Indians, Mr. Hunt learnt the real danger which he had 



154 ASTORIA. 

run, when hemmed up within the sand-bar. The Mandans 
who were of the war party, when they saw the boats so com- 
pletely entrapped and apparently within their power, had been 
eager for attacking it, and securing so rich a prize. The 
Minatarees, also, were nothing loath, feeling in some measure 
committed in hostility to the whites, in consequence of their 
tribe having killed two white men above the fort of the Mis- 
souri Fur Company. Fortunately, the Arickaras, who formed 
the majority of the war party, proved true in their friendship 
to the whites, and prevented any hostile act, otherwise a 
bloody affray, and perhaps a horrible massacre, might have 
ensued. 

On the 11th of June Mr. Hunt and his companions encamped 
near an island about six miles below the Arickara village. Mr. 
Lisa encamped, as usual, at no great distance; but the same 
sullen and jealous reserve and non-intercourse continued be- 
tween them. Shortly after pitching the tents, Mr. Brecken- 
ridge made his appearance as an ambassador from the rival 
camp. He cams on behalf of his companions, to arrange the 
manner of making their entrance into the village and of 
receiving the chiefs ; for everything of the kind is a matter of 
grave ceremonial among the Indians. 

The partners now expressed frankly their deep distrust of 
the intentions of Mr. Lisa, and their apprehensions, that, out 
of the jealousy of trade, and resentment of recent disputes, 
he might seek to instigate the Arickaras against them. Mr. 
Breekenridge assured them that their suspicions were entirely 
groundless, and pledged himself that nothing of the kind 
should take place. He found it difficult, however, to remove 
their distrust; the conference, therefore, ended without pro- 
ducing any cordial understanding ; and M'Lellan recurred to 
his old threat of shooting Lisa the instant he discovered any- 
thing like treachery in his proceedings. 

That night the rain fell in torrents, accompanied by thunder 
and lightning. . The camp was deluged, and the bedding and 
baggage drenched. All hands embarked at an early hour, and 
set forward for the village. About nine o'clock, when half 
way, they met a canoe, on board of which were two Arickara 
dignitaries. One, a fine-looking man, much above the com- 
mon size, was hereditary chief of the village ; he was called 
the Left-handed, on account of a personal peculiarity. The 
other, a ferocious-looking savage, was the war chief, or gen- 
eralissimo; he was known byjlie name of the Big Man, an 



ASTORIA. 15^ 

appellation he well deserved from his size, for he was of a 
gigantic frame. Both were of fairer complexion than is usual 
with savages. 

They were accompanied by an interpreter, a French Creole, 
one of those haphazard wights of Gallic origin, who abound 
upon our frontier, living among the Indians like one of their 
own race. He had been twenty years among the Arickaras, 
had a squaw and a troop of piebald children, and officiated as 
interpreter to the chiefs. Through this worthy organ the two 
dignitaries signified to Mr. Hunt their sovereign intention to 
oppose the further progress of the expedition up the river un- 
less a boat were left to trade with them. Mr. Hunt, in reply, 
explained the object of his voyage, and his intention of debark- 
ing at their village and proceeding thence by land ; and that he 
would willingly trade with them for a supply of horses for his 
journey. With this explanation they were perfectly satisfied, 
and putting about, steered for their village to make prepara 
tions for the reception of the strangers. 

The village of the Rikaras, Arickaras, or Ricarees, for the 
name is thus variously written, is between the 46th and 47th 
parallels of north latitude, and fourteen hundred and thirty 
miles above the mouth of the Missouri. The party reached it 
about ten o'clock in the morning, but landed on the opposite 
side of the river, where they spread out their baggage and 
effects to dry. From hence they commanded an excellent 
view of the village. It was divided into two portions, about 
eighty yards apart, being inhabited by two distinct bands. 
The whole extended about three quarters of a mile along the 
river bank, and was composed of conical lodges, that looked 
like so many small hillocks, being wooden frames intertwined 
with osier, and covered with earth. The plain beyond the vil- 
lage swept up into hills of considerable height, but the whole 
country was nearly destitute of trees. While they were re- 
garding the village, they beheld a singular fleet coming down 
the river. It consisted of a number of canoes, each made of a 
single buffalo hide stretched on sticks, so as to form a kind of 
circular trough. Each one was navigated by a single squaw, 
who knelt in the bottom and paddled, towing after her frail 
bark a bundle of floating wood intended for firing. This kind 
of canoe is in frequent use among the Indians ; the buffalo hide 
being readily made up into a bundle and transported on horse- 
back ; it is very serviceable in conveying baggage across the 
rwers. 



156 ASTORIA. 

The great number of horses grazing around the village, a 
scattered over the neighboring hills and valleys, bespoke the 
equestrian habits of the Arickaras who are admirable horse- 
men. Indeed, in the number of his horses consists the wealth 
of an Indian of the prairies ; who resembles an Arab in his 
passion for this noble animal, and in his adroitness in the man- 
agement of it. 

After a time, the voice of the sovereign chief, "the Left- 
handed," was heard across the river, announcing that the 
council lodge was preparing, and inviting the white men to 
come over. The river was half a mile in width, yet every 
word uttered by the chieftain was heard ; this may be partly 
attributed to the distinct manner in which every syllable 
of the compound words in the Indian language is articulated 
and accented ; but in truth, a savage warrior might often rival 
Achilles himself for force of lungs.* 

Now came the delicate point of management : how the two 
rival parties were to conduct their visit to the village with 
proper circumspection and due decorum. Neither of the lead- 
ers had spoken to each 6ther since their quarrel. All com- 
munication had been by ambassadors. Seeing the jealousy en- 
tertained of Lisa, Mr. Breckenridge, in his negotiation, had 
arranged that a deputation from each party should cross the 
river at the same time, so that neither would have the first 
access to the ear of the Arickaras. 

The distrust of Lisa, however, had increased in proportion 
as they approached the sphere of action, and M'Lellan in par- 
ticular kept a vigilant eye upon his motions, swearing to shoot 
him if he attempted to cross the river first. 

About two o'clock the large boat of Mr. Hunt was manned, 
and he stepped on board, accompanied by Messrs. M'Kenzie 
and M'Lellan ; Lisa at the same time embarked in his barge ; 
the two deputations amounted in all to fourteen persons, and 
never was any movement of rival potentates conducted with 
more wary exactness. 

They landed amid a rabble crowd, and were received on the 
bank by the left-handed chief, who conducted them into the 
village with grave courtesy ; driving to the right and left the 
swarms of old squaws, imp-like boys, and vagabond dogs, with 
which the place abounded. They wound their way between 
the cabins, which looked like dirt-heaps huddled together with- 

* Bradbury, p. 110. 



ASTORIA. 157 

out any plan, and surrounded by old palisades ; all filthy in 
the extreme, and redolent of villainous smells. 

At length they arrived at the council lodge. It was some- 
what spacious, and formed of four forked trunks of trees 
placed upright, supporting cross-beams and a frame of poles 
interwoven with osiers, and the whole covered with earth. A 
hole sunken in the centre formed the fireplace, and immediately 
above was a circular hole in the apex of the lodge, to let out the 
smoke and let in the daylight. Around the lodge were recesses 
for sleeping, like the berths on board ships, screened from view 
by curtains of dressed skins. At the upper end of the lodge 
was a kind of hunting and warlike trophy, consisting of two 
buffalo heads garishly painted, surmounted by shields, bows, 
quivers of arrows, and other weapons. 

On entering the lodge the chief pointed to mats or cushions 
which had been placed around for the strangers, and on which 
they seated themselves, while he placed himself on a kind of 
stool. An old man then came forward with the pipe of peace 
or good-fellowship, lighted and handed it to the chief, and then 
falling back, squatted himself near the door. The pipe was 
passed from mouth to mouth, each one taking a whiff, which 
is equivalent to the inviolable pledge of faith, of taking salt 
together among the ancient Britons. The chief then made a 
sign to the old pipe-bearer, who seemed to fill, likewise, the 
station of herald, seneschal, and public crier, for he ascended 
to the top of the lodge to make proclamation. Here he took 
his post beside the aperture for the emission of smoke and the 
admission of light ; the chief dictated from within what he was 
to proclaim, and he bawled it forth with a force of lungs that 
resounded over all the village. In this way he summoned the 
warriors and great men to council ; every now and then report- 
ing progress to his chief through the hole in the roof. 

In a little while the braves and sages began to enter one by 
one as their names were called or announced, emerging from 
under the buffalo robe suspended over the entrance instead of 
a door, stalking across the lodge to the skins placed on the 
floor, and crouching down on them in silence. In this way 
twenty entered and took their seats, forming an assemblage 
worthy of the pencil ; for the Arickaras are a noble race of 
men, large and well formed, and maintain a savage grandeur 
and gravity of demeanor in their solemn ceremonials. 

All being seated, the old seneschel prepared the pipe of cere- 
mony or council, and having lit it, handed it to the chief. He 



158 ASTORIA. 

inhaled the sacred smoke, gave a puff upward to the heaven, 
then downward to the earth, then toward the east ; after this 
it was as usual passed from mouth to mouth, each holding it 
respectfully until his neighbor had taken several whiffs ; and 
now the grand council was considered as opened in due form. 

The chief made an harangue welcoming the white men to 
his village, and expressing his happiness in taking them by the 
hand as friends ; but at the same time complaining of the pov- 
erty of himself and his people ; the usual prelude among In- 
j dians to begging or hard bargaining. 

Lisa rose to reply, and the eyes of Hunt and his companions 
were eagerly turned upon him, those of M'Lellan glaring like a 
basilisk's. He began by the usual expressions of friendship, 
and then proceeded to explain the object of his own party. 
Those persons, however, said he, pointing to Mr. Hunt and his 
companions, are of a different party, and are quite distinct in 
their views; but, added he, though we are separate parties, 
we make but one common cause when the safety of either is 
concerned. Any injury or insult offered to them I shall con- 
sider as done to myself, and will resent it accordingly. I trust, 
therefore, that you will treat them with the same friendship 
that you have always manifested for me, doing everything in 
your power to serve them and to help them on their way. 
The speech of Lisa, delivered with an air of frankness and sin- 
cerity, agreeably surprised and disappointed the rival party. 

Mr. Hunt then spoke, declaring the object of his journey to 
the great Salt Lake beyond the mountains, and that he should 
want horses for the purpose, for which he was ready to trade, 
having brought with him plenty of goods. Both he and Lisa 
concluded their speeches by making presents of tobacco. 

The left-handed chieftain in reply promised his friendship 
and aid to the new-comers, and welcomed them to his village. 
He added that they had not the number of horses to spare that 
Mr. Hunt required, and expressed a doubt whether they should 
be able to part with any. Upon this, another chieftain, called 
Gray Eyes, made a speech, and declared that they could readily 
supply Mr. Hunt with all the horses he might want, since, if 
they had not enough in the village, they could easily steal 
more. This honest expedient immediately removed the main 
difficulty ; but the chief deferred all trading for a day or two, 
until he should have time to consult with his subordinate 
chiefs, as to market rates; for the principal chief of a village, 
in conjunction with his council, usually fixes the prices at 



ASTORIA. 159 

which articles shall be bought and sold, and to them the village 
must conform. 

The council now broke up. Mr. Hunt transferred his camp 
across the river at a little distance below the village, and the 
left-handed chief placed some of his warriors as a guard to 
prevent the intrusion of any of his people. The camp was 
pitched on the river bank just above the boats. The tents, and 
the men wrapped in their blankets and bivouacking on skins 
in the open air, surrounded the baggage at night. Four senti- 
nels also kept watch within sight of each other outside of the 
camp until midnight, when they were relieved by four others 
who mounted guard until daylight. Mr. Lisa encamped near 
to Mr. Hunt, between him and the village. 

The speech of Mr. Lisa in the council had produced a pacific 
effect in the encampment. Though the sincerity of his friend- 
ship and good-will toward the new company still remained 
matter of doubt, he was no longer suspected of an intention to 
play false. The intercourse between the two leaders was, 
therefore, resumed, and the affairs of both parties went on 
harmoniously. _ 



CHAPTER XXI. 



A trade now commenced with the Arickaras under the regu- 
lation and supervision of their two chieftains. Lisa sent a.part 
of his goods to the lodge of the left-handed dignitary, and Mr. 
Hunt established his mart in the lodge of the Big Man. The 
village soon presented the appearance of a busy fair ; and as 
horses were in demand, the purlieus and the adjacent plain 
were like the vicinity of a Tartar encampment ; horses were 
put through all their paces, and horsemen were careering about 
with that dexterity and grace for which the Arickaras are 
noted. As soon as a horse was purchased, his tail was cropped, 
a sure mode of distinguishing him from the horsed of the tribe ; 
for the Indians disdain to practise this absurd, barbarous, and 
indecent mutilation, invented by some mean and vulgar mind, 
insensible to the merit and perfections of the animal. On the 
contrary, the Indian horses are suffered to remain in every 
respect the superb and beautiful animals which nature formed 
them. 

The wealth of an Indian of the far west consists principally 



160 ASTORIA. 

in his horses, of which each chief and warrior possesses a great 
number, so that the plains about an Indian village or encamp- 
ment are covered with them. These form objects of traffic, or 
objects of depredation, and in this way pass from tribe to tribe 
over great tracts of country. The horses owned by the Arick- 
aras are, for the most part, of the wild stock of the prairies ; 
some, however, had been obtained trom the Poncas, Pawnees, 
and other tribes to the southwest, who had stolen them from 
the Spaniards in the course of horse-stealing expeditions into 
the Mexican territories. These were to be known by being 
branded, a Spanish mode of marking horses not practised by 
the Indians. 

As the Arickaras were meditating another expedition against 
their enemies the Sioux, the articles of traffic most in demand 
were guns, tomahawks, scalping-knives, powder, ball, and other 
munitions of war. The price of a horse, as regulated by the 
chiefs, was commonly ten dollars' worth of goods at first cost. 
To supply the demand thus suddenly created, parties of young 
men and braves had sallied forth on expeditions to steal horses ; 
a species of service among the Indians which takes precedence 
of hunting, and is considered a department of honorable war- 
fare. 

While the leaders of the expedition were actively engaged in 
preparing for the approaching journey, those who had accom- 
panied it for curiosity or amusement, found ample * matter for 
observation in the village and its inhabitants. Wherever they 
went they were kindly entertained. If they entered a lodge, 
the buffalo robe was spread before the fire for them to sit 
down ; the pipe was brought, and while the master of the lodge 
conversed with his guests, the squaw put the earthen vessel 
over the fire, well filled with dried buffalo meat and pounded 
corn; for the Indian in his native state, before he has mingled 
much with white men, and acquired their sordid habits, has 
the hospitality of the Arab : never does a stranger enter his 
door without having food placed before him ; and never is the 
food thus furnished made a matter of traffic. 

The life of an Indian when at home in his village is a life of 
indolence and amusement. To the woman is consigned the 
labors of the household and the field ; she arranges the lodge ; 
brings wood for the fire ; cooks ; jerks venison and buffalo meat ; 
dresses the skins of the animals killed in the chase; cultivates 
the little patch of maize, pumpkins, and pulse, which furnishes 
a great part of their provisions. Their time for repose and 



ASTORIA. 161 

recreation is at sunset, when, the labors of the day being 
ended, they gather together to amuse themselves with petty 
games, or hold gossiping convocations on the tops of their 
lodges. 

As to the Indian, he is a game animal, not to be degraded by 
useful or menial toil. It is enough that he exposes himself to 
the hardships of the chase and the perils of war; that he brings 
home food for his family, and watches and fights for its pro- 
tection. Everything else is beneath his attention. When at 
home he attends only to his weapons and his horses, preparing 
the means of future exploit. Or he engages with his comrades 
in games of dexterity, agility and strength ; or in gambling 
games in which everything is put at hazard, with a reckless- 
ness seldom witnessed in civilized life. 

A great part of the idle leisure of the Indians when at home 
is passed in groups, squatted together on the bank of a river, 
on the top of a mound on the prairie, or on the roof of one of 
their earth-covered lodges, talking over the news of the day, 
the affairs of the tribe, the events and exploits of their last 
hunting or fighting expedition; or listening to the stories of 
old times told by some veteran chronicler ; resembling a group 
of our village quidnuncs and politicians, listening to the pros- 
ings of some superannuated oracle, or discussing the contents 
of an ancient newspaper. 

As to the Indian women, they are far from complaining of 
their lot. On the contrary, they would despise their husbands 
could they stoop to any menial office, and would think it con- 
veyed an imputation upon their own conduct. It is the worst 
insult one virago can cast upon another in a moment of alter- 
cation. " Infamous woman!" will she cry, "I have seen your 
husband carrying wood into his lodge to make the fire. Where 
was his squaw that he should be obliged to make a woman of 
himself ?" 

Mr. Hunt and his fellow-travellers had not been many days 
at the Arickara village, when rumors began to circulate that 
the Sioux had followed them up, and that a war party, four or 
five hundred in number, were- lurking somewhere in the neigh- 
borhood. These rumors produced much embarrassment in the 
camp. The white hunters were deterred from venturing forth 
in quest of game, neither did the leaders think it proper to 
expose them to such risk. The Arickaras, too, who had suf- 
fered greatly in their wars with this cruel and ferocious tribe, 
were roused to increased vigilance, and stationed mounted 



162 ASTORIA. 

scouts upon the neighboring hills. This, however, is a general 
precaution among the tribes of the prairies. Those immense 
plains present a horizon like the ocean, so that any object of 
importance can be descried afar, and information communi- 
cated to a great distance. The scouts are stationed on the 
hills, therefore, to look out both for game and for enemies, and 
are, in a manner, living telegraphs conveying their intelligence 
by concerted signs. If they wish to give notice of a herd of 
buffalo in the plain beyond, they gallop backward and forward 
abreast, on the summit of the hill. If they perceive an enemy 
at hand, they gallop to and fro, crossing each other; at sight 
of which the whole village flies to arms. 

Such an alarm was given in the afternoon of the 15th. Four 
scouts were seen crossing and recrossing each other at full 
gallop, on the summit of a hill about two miles distant down 
the river. The cry was up that the Sioux were coming. In 
an instant the village was in an uproar. Men, women, and 
children were all brawling and shouting ; dogs barking, yelp- 
ing, and howling. Some of the warriors ran for the horses to 
gather and drive them in from the prairie, some for their 
weapons. As fast as they could arm and equip they sallied 
forth; some on horseback, some on foot. Some hastily ar- 
rayed in their war dress, with coronets of fluttering feathers, 
and their bodies smeared with paint ; others naked and only 
furnished with the weapons they had snatched up. The wo- 
men and children gathered on the tops of the lodges and 
heightened the confusion of the scene by their vociferation. 
Old men who could no longer bear arms took similar stations, 
and harangued the warriors as they passed, exhorting them 
to valorous deeds. Some of the veterans took arms them- 
selves, and sallied forth v/ith tottering steps. In this way, the 
savage chivalry of the village to the number of five hundred, 
poured forth, helter-skelter, riding and running, with hideous 
yells and war-whoops, like so many bedlamites or demoniacs 
let loose. 

After a while the tide of war rolled back, but with far less 
uproar. Either it had been a false alarm, or the enemy had 
retreated on finding themselves discovered, and quiet was re- 
stored to the village. The white hunters continuing to be fear- 
ful of ranging this dangerous neighborhood, fresh provisions 
began to be scarce in the camp. As a substitute, therefore, 
for venison and buffalo meat, the travellers had to purchase a 
number of dogs to be shot and cooked for the supply of the 



ASTORIA. 163 

camp. Fortunately, however chary the Indians might be of 
their horses, they were liberal of their dogs. In fact, these 
animals swarm about an Indian village as they do about a 
Turkish town. Not a family but has two or three dozen be- 
longing to it of all sizes and colors ; some, of a superior breed, 
are used for hunting; others, to draw the sledge, while other;, 
of a mongrel breed, and idle vagabond nature, are fattened fez* 
food. They are supposed to be descended from the wolf, and 
retain something of his savage but cowardly temper, howling 
rather than barking; showing their teeth and snarling on the 
slightest provocation, but sneaking away on the least attack. 

The excitement of the village continued from day to day. 
On the day following the alarm just mentioned, several parties 
arrived from different directions, and were met and conducted 
by some of the braves to the council lodge, where they reported 
the events and success of their expeditions, whether of war or 
hunting ; which news was afterward promulgated throughout 
the village, by certain old men who acted as heralds or town 
criers. Among the parties which arrived was one that had 
been among the Snake nation stealing horses, and returned 
crowned with success. As they passed in triumph through the 
village they were cheered by the men, women, and children, 
collected as usual on the tops of the lodges, and were exhorted 
by the Nestors of the village to be generous in their dealings 
with the white men. 

The evening was spent in feasting and rejoicing among the 
relations of the successful warriors ; but sounds of grief and 
wailing were heard from the hills adjacent to the village : the 
lamentations of women who had lost some relative in the foray . 

An Indian village is subject to continual agitations and ex- 
citements. The next day arrived a deputation of braves from 
the Cheyenne or Shienne nation ; a broken tribe, cut up, like 
the Arickaras, by wars with the Sioux, and driven to take ref - 
uge among the Black Hills, near the sources of the Cheyenne 
River, from which they derive their name. One of these depu- 
ties was magnificently arrayed in a buffalo robe, on which 
various figures were fancifully embroidered with split quills 
dyed red and yellow ; and the whole was fringed with the slen- 
der hoofs of young fawns, and rattled as he walked. 

The arrival of this deputation was the signal for another of 
those ceremonials which occupy so much of Indian life; for no 
being is more courtly and punctilious, and more observing of 
etiquette and formality than an American savage. 



164 AST OBI A, 

The object of the deputation was to give notice of an intended 
visit of the Shienne (or Cheyenne) tribe to the Arickara 
village in the course of fifteen days. To this visit Mr. Hunt 
looked forward, to procure additional horses for his journey; 
all his bargaining being ineffectual in obtaining a sufficient 
supply from the Arickaras. Indeed nothing could prevail upon 
the latter to part with their prime horses, which had been 
trained to buffalo hunting. 

As Mr. Hunt would have to abandon his boats at this place, 
Mr. Lisa now offered to purchase them, and such of his mer- 
chandise as was superfluous, and to pay him in horses, to be 
obtained at a fort belonging to the Missouri Fur Company, 
situated at the Mandan villages, about a hundred and fifty 
miles further up the river. A bargain was promptly made, 
and Mr. Lisa and Mr. Crooks, with several companions, set out 
for the fort to procure the horses. They returned, after up- 
ward of a fortnight's absence, bringing with them the stipu- 
lated number of horses. Still the cavalry was not sufficiently 
numerous to convey the party and the baggage and merchan- 
dise, and a few days more were required to complete the ar- 
rangements for the journey. 

On the 9th of July, just before daybreak, a great noise and 
vociferation was heard in the village. This being the usual In- 
dian hour of attack and surprise, and the Sioux being known 
to be in the neighborhood, the camp was instantly on the alert. 
As the day broke Indians were descried in considerable num- 
ber on the bluffs, three or four miles down the river. The 
noise and agitation in the village -continued. The tops of the 
lodges were crowded with the inhabitants, all earnestly looking 
toward the hills, and keeping up a vehement chattering. Pres- 
ently an Indian warrior galloped past the camp toward the 
village, and in a little while the legions began to pour forth. 

The truth of the matter was now ascertained. The Indians 
upon the distant hills were three hundred Arickara braves re- 
turning from a foray. They had met the war party of Sioux 
who had been so long hovering about the neighborhood, had 
fought them the day before, killed several, and defeated the 
rest with the loss of but two or three of their own men and 
about a dozen wounded ; and they were now halting at a dis- 
tance until their comrades in the village should come forth to 
meet them, and swell the parade of their triumphal entry. 
The warrior who had galloped past the camp was the leader of 
the party hastening home to give tidings of his victory. 



ASTORIA. 160 

Preparations were now made for this great martial cere- 
mony. All the finery and equipments of the warriors were 
sent forth to them, that they might appear to the greatest ad- 
vantage. Those, too, who had z*emained at home, tasked their 
wardrobes and toilets to do honor to the procession. 

The Arickaras generally go naked, but, like all savages, they 
have their gala dress, of which they are not a little vain. This 
usually consists of a gray surcoat and leggins of the dressed 
skin of the antelope, resembling chamois leather, and embroi- 
dered with porcupine quills brilliantly dyed. A bufialo robe is 
thrown over the right shoulder, and across the left is slung a 
quiver of arrows. They wear gay coronets of plumes, particu- 
larly those of the swan ; but the feathers of the black eagle are 
considered the most worthy, being a sacred bird among the 
Indian warriors. He who has killed an enemy in his own 
land is entitled to drag at his neels a fox-skin attached to each 
moccason ; and he who nas slain a grizzly t)ear wears a neck- 
lace of his claws, the most glorious trophy that a hunter can 
exhibit. 

An Indian toilet is an operation of some toil and trouble : 
the warrior often has to paint himself from head to foot, and 
is extremely capricious and difficult to please, as to the hideous 
distribution of streaks and colors. A great part of the morn- 
ing, therefore, passed away before there were any signs of 
the distant pageant. In the mean time a profound stillness 
reigned over the village. Most of the inhabitants had gone 
forth ; others remained in mute expectation. All sports and 
occupations were suspended, excepting that in the lodges the 
painstaking squaws were silently busied in preparing the re- 
pasts for the warriors. 

It was near noon that a mingled sound of voices and rude 
music, faintly heard from a distance, gave notice that the pro- 
cession was on the march. The old men and such of the 
squaws as could leave their employments hastened forth to 
meet it. In a little while it emerged from behind a hill, and 
had a wild and picturesque appearance as it came moving over 
the summit in measured step, and to the cadence of songs and 
savage instruments ; the warlike standards and trophies flaunt- 
ing aloft, and the feathers, and paint, and silver ornaments of 
the warriors glaring and glittering in the sunshine. 

The pageant had really something chivalrous in its arrange- 
ment. The Arickaras are divided into several bands, each 
bearing the name of some animal or bird, as the buffalo, the 



166 ASTORIA. 

bear, the dog, the pheasant. The present party consisted of 
four of these bands, one of which was the dog, the most 
esteemed in war, being composed of young men under thirty, 
and noted for prowess. It is engaged on the most desperate 
occasions. The bands marched in separate bodies under their 
several leaders. The warriors on foot came first, in platoons 
of ten or twelve abreast ; then the horsemen. Each band bore 
as an ensign a spear or bow decorated with beads, porcupine 
quills, and painted feathers. Each bore its trophies of scalps, 
elevated on poles, their long black locks streaming in the 
wind. Each was accompanied by its rude music and min- 
strelsy. In this way the procession extended nearly a quarter 
of a mile. The warriors were variously armed, some few with 
guns, others with bows and arrows, and war clubs; all had 
shields of buffalo hide, a kind of defence generally used by the 
Indians of the open prairies, who have not the covert of trees 
and forests to protect them. They were painted in the most 
savage style. Some had the stamp of a red hand across their 
mouths, a sign that they had drunk the life-blood of a foe ! 

As they drew near to the village the old men and the women 
began to meet them, and now a scene ensued that proved the 
fallacy of the old fable of Indian apathy and stoicism. Parents 
and children, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters met 
with the most rapturous expressions of joy: while wailings 
and lamentations were heard from the relatives of the killed 
and wounded. The procession, however, continued on with 
slow and measured step, in cadence to the solemn chant, and 
the warriors maintained their fixed and stern demeanor. 

Between two of the principal chiefs rode a young warrior 
who had distinguished himself in the battle. He was severely 
wounded, so as with difficulty to keep on his horse ; but he 
preserved a serene and steadfast countenance, as if perfectly 
unharmed. His mother had heard of his condition. She 
broke through the throng, and rushing up, threw her arms 
around him and wept aloud. He kept up the spirit and de- 
meanor of a warrior to the last, but expired shortly after he 
had reached his home. 

The village was now a scene of the utmost festivity and tri- 
umph. The banners, and trophies, and scalps, and painted 
shields were elevated on poles near the lodges. There were 
war-feasts and scalp-dances, with warlike songs and savage 
music ; all the inhabitants were arrayed in their festal dresses ; 
While the old heralds went round from lodge to lodge, promul- 



ASTORIA. 167 

gating with loud voices the events of the battle and the ex- 
ploits of the various warriors. 

Such was the boisterous revelry of the village; but sounds of 
another kind were heard on the surrounding hills; piteous 
wailings of the women, who had retired thither to mourn in 
darkness and solitude for those who had fallen in battle. 
There the poor mother of the youthful warror who had re- 
turned home in triumph but to die, gave full vent to the 
anguish of a mother's heart. How much does this custom 
among the Indian women of repairing to the hill tops in the 
night, and pouring forth their wailings for the dead, call to 
mind the beautiful and affecting passage of Scripture, "In 
Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and 
great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and would 
not be comforted, because they are not." 



CHAPTER XXII. 



While Mr. Hunt was diligently preparing for his arduous 
journey, some of his men began to lose heart at the perilous 
prospect before them ; but, before we accuse them of want of 
spirit, it is proper to consider the nature of the wilderness into 
which they were about to adventure. It was a region almost 
as vast and trackless as the ocean, and, at the time of which we 
treat, but little known, excepting through the vague accounts 
of Indian hunters. A part of their route would lay across an 
immense tract, stretching north and south for hundreds of 
miles along the foot of the Rocky Mountains, and drained by 
the tributary streams of the Missouri and the Mississippi. 
This region, which resembles one of the immeasurable steppes 
pi Asia, has not inaptly been termed "the great American 
desert." It spreads forth into undulating and treeless plains, 
and desolate sandy wastes, wearisome to the eye from their 
extent and monotony, and which are supposed by geologists 
to have formed the ancient floor of the ocean, countless ages 
since, when its primeval waves beat against the granite bases 
of the Rocky Mountains. 

It is a land where no man permanently abides ; for, in cer- 
tain seasons of the year there is no food either for the hunter 
or his steed. The herbage is parched and withered ; the brooks 



168 ASTORIA. 

and streams are dried up; the buffalo, the elk, and the deer 
have wandered to distant parts, keeping within the verge of 
expiring verdure, and leaving behind them a vast uninhabited 
solitude, seamed by ravines, the beds of former torrents, but 
now serving only to tantalize and increase the thirst of the 
traveller. 

Occasionally the monotony of this vast wilderness is inter- 
rupted by mountainous belts of sand and limestone, broken 
into confused masses ; with precipitous cliffs and yawning ra- 
vines, looking like the ruins of a world ; or is traversed by 
lofty and barren ridges of rock, almost impassable, like those 
denominated the Black Hills. Beyond these rise the stern bar- 
riers of the Eocky Mountains, the limits, as it were, of the 
Atlantic world. The rugged defiles and deep valleys of this 
vast chain form sheltering places for restless and ferocious 
bands of savages, many of them the remnants of tribes once 
inhabitants of the prairies, but broken up by war and violence, 
and who carry into their mountain haunts the fierce passions 
and reckless habits of desperadoes. 

Such is the nature of this immense wilderness of the far 
West ; which apparently defies cultivation, and the habitation 
of civilized life. Some portions of it along the rivers may par- 
tially be subdued by agriculture, others may form vast pasto- 
ral tracts, like those of the East; but it is to be feared that a 
great part of it will form a lawless interval between the abodes 
of civilized man, like the wastes of the ocean or the deserts of 
Arabia ; and, like them, be subject to the depredations of the 
marauder. Here may spring up new and mongrel races, like 
new formations in geology, the amalgamation of the " debris" 
and ' 4 abrasions" of former races, civilized and savage ; the re- 
mains of broken and almost extinguished tribes ; the descend- 
ants of wandering hunters and trappers ; of fugitives from the 
Spanish and American frontiers ; of adventurers and despera- 
does of every class and country, yearly ejected from the 
bosom of society into the wilderness. We are contributing in- 
cessantly to swell this singular and heterogeneous cloud of 
wild population that is to hang about our frontier, by the 
transfer of whole tribes of savages from the east of the Missis- 
sippi to the great wastes of the far West. Many of these bear 
with them the smart of real or fancied injuries ; many con- 
sider themselves expatriated beings, wrongfully exiled from 
their hereditary homes and the sepulchres of their fathers, and 
cherish a deep and abiding animosity against the race that 



ASTORIA. 169 

has dispossessed them. Some may gradually become pastoral 
hordes, like those rude and migratory people, half shepherd, 
half warrior, who, with their flocks and herds, roam the plains 
of upper Asia ; but others, it is to be apprehended, will become 
predatory bands, mounted on the fleet steeds of the prairies, 
with the open plains for their marauding grounds, and the 
mountains for their retreats and lurking-places. Here they 
may resemble those great hordes of the North — " Gog and Ma- 
gog with their bands," that haunted the gloomy imaginations 
of the prophets. "A great company and a mighty host, all 
riding upon horses, and warring upon those nations which 
were at rest, and dwelt peaceably, and had gotten cattle and 
goods." 

The Spaniards changed the whole character and habits of 
the Indians when they brought the horse among them. In 
Chili, Tucuman, and other parts, it has converted them, we 
are told, into Tartar-like tribes, and enabled them to keep the 
Spaniards out of their country, and even to make it dangerous 
for them to venture far from their towns and settlements. 
Are we not in danger of producing some such state of things 
in the boundless regions of the far West ? That these are not 
mere fanciful and extravagant suggestions we have sufficient 
proofs in the dangers already experienced by the traders to 
the Spanish mart of Santa Fe, and to the distant posts of the 
fur companies. These are obliged to proceed in armed cara- 
vans, and are subject to murderous attacks from bands of 
Pawnees, Ca;manches, and Blackfeet, that come scouring upon 
them in their weary march across the plains or lie in wait for 
them among the passes of the mountains. 

We are wandering, however, into excursive speculations, 
when our intention was merely to give an idea of the nature 
of the wilderness which Mr. Hunt was about to traverse, and 
which at that time was far less known than at present, though 
it still remains in a great measure an unknown land. We can- 
not be surprised, therefore, that some of the least resolute of 
his party should feel dismay at the thoughts of adventuring 
into this perilous wilderness, under the uncertain guidance of 
three hunters, who had merely passed once through the coun- 
try and might have forgotten the landmarks. Their appre- 
hensions were aggravated by some of Lisa's followers, who, 
not being engaged in the expedition, took a mischievous pleas- 
ure in exaggerating its dangers. They painted in strong col- 
ors, to the poor Canadian vovageurs, the risk they would run 



170 ASTORIA. 

of perishing with hunger and thirst ; of being cut off by war- 
parties of the Sioux who scoured the plains ; of having their 
horses stolen by the Upsarokas or Crows, who infested the 
skirts of the Kocky Mountains ; or of being butchered by the 
Blackfeet, who lurked among the defiles. In a word, there 
was little chance of their getting alive across the mountains; 
and even if they did, those three guides knew nothing of the 
howling wilderness that lay beyond. 

The apprehensions thus awakened in the minds of some of 
the men came well-nigh proving detrimental to the expedition. 
Some of them determined to desert, and to make their way 
back to St. Louis. They accordingly purloined several weap- 
ons and a barrel of gunpowder, as ammunition for their enter- 
prise, and buried them in the river bank, intending to seize 
one of the boats and make off in the night. Fortunately their 
plot was overheard by John Day, the Kentuckian, and com- 
municated to the partners, who took quiet and effectual means 
to frustrate it. 

The dangers to be apprehended from the Crow Indians had 
not been overrated by the camp gossips. These savages, 
through whose mountain haunts the party would have to 
pass, were noted for daring and excursive habits, and great 
dexterity in horse stealing. Mr. Hunt, therefore, considered 
himself fortunate in having met with a man who might be of 
great use to him in any intercourse he might have with the 
tribe. This was a wandering individual, named Edward Eose, 
whom he had picked up somewhere on the Missouri — one of 
those anomalous beings found on the frontier, who seem to 
have neither kin nor country. He had lived some time among 
the Crows, so as to become acquainted with their language 
and customs ; and was, withal, a dogged, sullen, silent fellow, 
with a sinister aspect, and more of the savage than the civi- 
lized man in his appearance. He was engaged to serve in gen- 
eral as a hunter, but as guide and interpreter when they should 
reach the country of the Crows. 

On the 18th of July Mr. Hunt took up his line of march by 
land from the Arickara village, leaving Mr. Lisa and Mr. Nut- 
tall there, where they intended to await the expected arrival 
of Mr. Henry from the Eocky Mountains. As to Messrs. 
Bradbury and Breckenridge, they had departed, some days 
previously, on a voyage down the river to St. Louis, with a 
detachment from Mr. Lisa's party. With all his exertions, 
Mr. Hunt had been unable to obtain a sufficient number of 



ASTORIA, 171 

horses for the accommodation of all his people. His cavalcade 
consisted of eighty-two horses, most of them heavily laden 
with Indian goods, beaver traps, ammunition, Indian corn, 
corn meal, and other necessaries. Each of the partners was 
mounted, and a horse was allotted to the interpreter, Pierre 
Dorion, for the transportation of his luggage and his two chil- 
dren. His squaw, for the most part of the time, trudged on 
foot, like the residue of the party ; nor did any of the men 
show more patience and fortitude than this resolute woman in 
enduring fatigue and hardship. 

The veteran trappers and voyageurs of Lisa's party shook 
their heads as their comrades set out, and took leave of them 
as of doomed men ; and even Lisa himself gave it as his opin- 
ion, after the travellers had departed, that they would never 
reach the shores of the Pacific, but would either perish with 
hunger in the wilderness, or be cut off by the savages. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



The course taken by Mr. Hunt was at first to the northwest, 
but soon turned and kept generally to the southwest, to avoid 
the country infested by the Blackfeet. His route took him 
across some of the tributary streams of the Missouri, and over 
immense prairies, bounded only by the horizon, and destitute 
of trees. It was now the height of summer, and these naked 
plains would be intolerable to the traveller were it not for the 
breezes which sweep over them during the fervor of the day, 
bringing with them tempering airs from the distant mountains. 
To the prevalence of these breezes, and to the want of all leafy 
covert, may we also attribute the freedom from those fiies and 
other insects so tormenting to man and beast during the sum* 
mer months, in the lower plains, which are bordered and inter- 
spersed with woodland. 

The monotony of these immense landscapes, also, would be as 
wearisome as that of the ocean, were it not relieved in some 
degree by the purity and elasticity of the atmosphere, and the 
beauty of the heavens. The sky has that delicious blue for 
which the sky of Italy is renowned; the sun shines with a 
splendor, unobscured by any cloud or vapor, and a starlight 
night on the prairies is glorious. This purity and elasticity of 



172 ASTORIA. 

atmosphere increases as the traveller approaches the moun- 
tains, and gradually rises into more elevated prairies. 

On the second day of the journey Mr. Hunt arranged the 
party into small and convenient messes, distributing among 
them the camp kettles. The encampments at night were as 
before : some sleeping under tents, and others bivouacking in 
the open air. The Canadians proved as patient of toil and 
hardship on the land as on the water ; indeed, nothing could 
surpass the patience and good-humor of these men upon the 
march. They were the cheerful drudges of the party, loading 
and unloading the horses, pitching the tents, making the fires, 
cooking ; in short, performing all those household and menial 
oifices which the Indians usually assign to the squaws ; and, 
like the squaws, they left all the hunting and fighting to others. 
A Canadian has but little affection for the exercise of the rifle. 

The progress of the party was but slow for the first few days. 
Some of the men were indisposed ; Mr. Crooks, especially, was 
so unwell that he could not keep on his horse. A rude kind of 
litter was therefore prepared for him, consisting of two long 
poles, fixed, one on each side of two horses, with a matting be- 
tween them, on which he reclined at full length, and was pro- 
tected from the sun by a canopy of boughs. 

On the evening of the 23d (July) they encamped on the 
banks of what they term Big Eiver; and here we cannot but 
pause to lament the stupid, commonplace, and often ribald 
names entailed upon the rivers and other features of the great 
West by traders and settlers. As the aboriginal tribes of these 
magnificent regions are yet in existence, the Indian names 
might easily be recovered ; which, besides being in general more 
sonorous and musical, would remain mementoes of the primi- 
tive lords of the soil, of whom in a little while scarce any traces 
will be left. Indeed, it is to be wished that the whole of our 
country could be rescued, as much as possible, from the 
wretched nomenclature inflicted upon it by ignorant and vul- 
gar minds ; and this might be done, in a great degree, by restor- 
ing the Indian names, wherever significant and euphonious. 
As there appears to be a spirit of research abroad in respect 
to our aboriginal antiquities, we would suggest, as a worthy 
object of enterprise, a map or maps, of every part of our 
country, giving the Indian names wherever they could be 
ascertained. Whoever achieves such an object worthily, will 
leave a monument to his own reputation. 

To return from this digression. As the travellers were now 



ASTORIA. 173 

in a country abounding with buffalo, they remained for several 
days encamped upon the banks of Big River, to obtain a supply 
of provisions, and to give the invalids time to recruit. 

On the second day of cheir sojourn, as Ben Jones, John Day, 
and others of the hunters were in pursuit of game, they came 
upon an Indian camp on the open prairie, near to a small 
stream which ran through a ravine. The tents or lodges were 
of dressed buffalo skins, sewn together and stretched on taper- 
ing pine poles, joined at top, but radiating at bottom, so as to 
form a circle capable of admitting fifty persons. Numbers of 
horses were grazing in the neighborhood of the camp, or 
straying at large in the prairie ; a sight most acceptable to the 
hunters. After reconnoitring the camp for some time they as- 
certained it to belong to a band of Cheyenne Indians, the 
same that had sent a deputation to the Arickaras. They 
received the hunters in the most friendly manner; invited 
them to their lodges, which were more cleanly than Indian 
lodges are prone to be, and set food before them with true un- 
civilized hospitality. Several of them accompanied the hunters 
back to the camp, when a trade was immediately opened. The 
Cheyennes were astonished and delighted to find a convoy of 
goods and trinkets thus brought into the very heart of the 
prairie ; while Mr. Hunt and his companions were overjoyed 
to have an opportunity of obtaining a further supply of horses 
from these equestrian savages. 

During a fortnight that the travellers lingered at this place, 
their encampment was continually thronged by the Cheyennes. 
They were a civil, well-behaved people, cleanly in their persons 
and decorous in their habits. The men were tall, straight, and 
vigorous, with aquiline noses and high cheek bones. Some 
were almost as naked as ancient statues, and might have stood 
as models for statuary ; others had leggins and moccasons of 
deer skin, and buffalo robes, which they threw gracefully over 
their shoulders. In a little while, however, they began to ap- 
pear in more gorgeous array, tricked out in the finery obtained 
from the white men — bright cloths, brass rings, beads of 
various colors, and happy was he who could render himself 
hideous with vermillion. 

The travellers had frequent occasion to admire the skill and 
grace with which these Indians managed their horses. Some 
of them made a striking display when mounted, themselves 
and their steeds decorated in gala style ; for the Indians often 
bestow more finery upon their horses than upon themselves. 



174 A8T0BIA. 

Some would hang round the necks, or rather on the breasts of 
their horses, the most precious ornaments they had obtained 
from the white men ; others interwove feathers in their manes 
and tails. The Indian horses, too, appear to have an attach- 
ment to their wild riders, and indeed it is said that the horses 
of the prairies readily distinguish an Indian from a white man 
by the smell, and give a preference to the former. Yet the 
Indians, in general, are hard riders, and, however they may 
value their horses, treat them with great roughness and neg- 
lect. Occasionally the Cheyennes joined the white hunters in 
pursuit of the elk and buffalo ; and when in the ardor of the 
chase, spared neither themselves nor their steeds, scouring the 
prairies at full speed, and plunging down precipices and fright- 
ful ravines that threatened the necks of both horse and horse- 
man. The Indian steed, well trained to the chase, seems as 
mad as his rider, and pursues the game as eagerly as if it were 
his natural prey, on the flesh of which he was to banquet. 

The history of the Cheyennes is that of many of those wan- 
dering tribes of the prairies. They were the remnant of a 
once powerful people called the Shaways, inhabiting a branch 
of the Eed Eiver which flows into Lake Winnipeg. Every 
Indian tribe has some rival tribe with which it wages implaca- 
ble hostility. The deadly enemies of the Shaways were the 
Sioux, who, after a long course of warfare, proved too power- 
ful for them, and drove them across the Missouri. They again 
took root near the Warricanne Creek, and established them- 
selves there in a fortified village. 

The Sioux still followed them with deadly animosity ; dis- 
lodged them from their village, and compelled them to take 
refuge in the Black Hills, near the upper waters of the Shey- 
enne or Cheyenne Eiver. Here they lost even their name, and 
became known among the French colonists by that of the river 
they frequented. 

The heart of the tribe was now broken ; its numbers were 
greatly thinned by their harassing wars. They no longer at- 
tempted to establish themselves in any permanent abode that 
might be an object of attack to their cruel foes. They gave up 
the cultivation of the fruits of the earth, and became a wan- 
dering tribe, subsisting by the chase, and following the buffalo 
in its migrations. 

Their only possessions were horses, which they caught on 
the prairies, or reared, or captured on predatory incursions 
into the Mexican territories, as has already been mentioned. 



ASTORIA. * 175 

With some of these they repaired once a year to the Arickara 
villages, exchanged them for corn, beans, pumpkins, and arti- 
cles of European merchandise, and then returned into the 
heart of the prairies. 

Such are the fluctuating fortunes of these savage nations. 
War, famine, pestilence, together or singly, bring down their 
strength and thin their numbers. Whole tribes are rooted up 
from their native places, wander for a time about these im- 
mense regions, become amalgamated with other tribes, or dis- 
appear from the face of the earth. There appears to be a ten- 
dency to extinction among all the savage nations; and this 
tendency would seem to have been in operation among the 
aboriginals of this country long before the advent of the white 
men, if we may judge from the traces and traditions of 'ancient 
populousness in regions which were silent and deserted at the 
time of the discovery ; and from the mysterious and perplex- 
ing vestiges of unknown races, predecessors of those found in 
actual possession, and who must long since have become grad- 
ually extinguished or been destroyed. The whole history of 
the aboriginal population of this country, however, is an 
enigma, and a grand one — will it ever be solved? 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



On the sixth of August the travellers bade farewell to the 
friendly band of Cheyennes and resumed their journey. As 
they had obtained thirty-six additional horses by their recent 
traffic, Mr. Hunt made a new arrangement. The baggage was 
made up in smaller loads. A horse was allotted to each of the 
six prime hunters, and others were distributed among the voy- 
ageurs, a horse for every two, so that they could ride and walk 
alternately. Mr. Crooks, being still too feeble to mount the 
saddle, was carried on a litter. 

Their march this day lay among singular hills and knolls of 
an indurated red earth, resembling brick, about the bases of 
which were scattered pumice stones and cinders, the whole 
bearing traces of the action of fire. In the evening they en- 
camped on a branch of Big Eiver. 

They were now out of the tract of country infested by the 
Sioux, and had advanced such adigtance into the interior that 



176 ASTORIA. 

Mr. Hunt no longer felt apprehensive of the desertion of any 
of his men. He was doomed, however, to experience new 
cause of anxiety. As he was seated in his tent after night- 
fall, one of the men came to him privately, and informed him 
that there was mischief brewing in the camp. Edward Rose, 
the interpreter, whose sinister looks we have already men 
tioned, was denounced by this secret informer as a designing, 
treacherous scoundrel, who was tampering with the fidelity of 
certain of the men, and instigating them to a flagrant piece of 
treason. In the course of a few days they would arrive at the 
mountainous district infested by the Upsarokas or Crows, the 
tribe among which Eose was to officiate as interpreter. His 
plan was that several of the men should join with him, when 
in that neighborhood, in carrying off a number of the horses 
with their packages of goods, and deserting to those savages. 
He assured them of good treatment among the Crows, the 
principal chiefs and warriors of whom he knew ; they would 
soon become great men among them, and have the finest 
women, and the daughters of the chiefs, for wives; and the 
horses and goods they carried off would make them rich for 
life. 

The intelligence of this treachery on the part of Rose gave 
much disquiet to Mr. Hunt, for he knew not how far it might 
be effective among his men. He had already had proofs that 
several of them were disaffected to the enterprise, and loath 
to cross the mountains. He knew also that savage life had 
charms for many of them, especially the Canadians, who were 
prone to intermarry and domesticate themselves among the 
Indians. 

And here a word or two concerning the Crows may be of 
service to the reader, as they will figure occasionally in the 
succeeding narration. 

The tribe consists of four bands, which have their nestling 
places in fertile, well- wooded valleys, lying among the Rocky 
Mountains, and watered by the Big Horse River and its tribu-' 
tary streams; but, though these are properly their homes, 
where they shelter their old people, their wives, and their 
children, the men of the tribe are aimost continually on the 
foray and the scamper. They are, in fact, notorious marauders 
and horse-stealers ; crossing and recrossing the mountains, 
robbing on the one side, and conveying their spoils to the 
other. Hence, we are told, is derived their name, given to 
them on account of their unsettled and predatory habits ; wing' 



ASTORIA. 177 

ing their flight, like the crows, from one side of the mountains 
to the other, and making free booty of everything that lies in 
their way. Horses, however, are the especial objects of their 
depredations, and their skill and audacity in stealing them are 
said to be astonishing. This is their glory and delight ; an ac- 
complished horse-stealer fills up their idea of a hero. Many 
horses are obtained by them, also, in barter from tribes in and 
beyond the mountains. They have an absolute passion for 
this noble animal ; besides which he is with them an important 
object of traffic. Once a year they make a visit to the Mandans, 
Minatarees, and other tribes of the Missouri, taking with them 
droves of horses which they exchange for guns, ammunition, 
trinkets, vermilion, cloths of bright colors, and various other 
articles of European manufacture. With these they Supply 
their own wants and caprices, and carry on the internal trade 
for horses already mentioned. 

The plot of Eose to rob and abandon his countrymen when in 
the heart of the wilderness, and to throw himself into the hands 
of a horde of savages, may appear strange and improbable to 
those unacquainted with the singular and anomalous characters 
that are to be found about the borders. This fellow, it appears, 
was one of those desperadoes of the frontiers, outlawed by 
their crimes, who combine the vices of civilized and savage 
life, and are ten times mere barbarous than the Indians with 
whom they consort. Eose had formerly belonged to one of 
the gangs of pirates who infested the islands of the Mississippi, 
plundering boats as they went up and down the river, and who 
sometimes shifted the scene of their robberies to the shore, 
waylaying travellers as they returned by land from New 
Orleans with the proceeds of their downward voyage, plunder- 
ing them of their money and effects, and often perpetrating the 
most atrocious murders. 

These hordes of villains being broken up and dispersed, Eose 
had betaken himself to the wilderness, and associated himself 
with the Crows, whose predatory habits were congenial with 
his own, had married a woman of the tribe, and, in short, had 
identified himself with those vagrant savages. 

Such was the worthy guide and interpreter, Edward Eose. 
We give his story, however, not as it was known to Mr. Hunt 
and his companions at the time, but as it has been subsequently 
ascertained. Enough was known of the fellow and his dark 
and perfidious character to put Mr. Hunt upon his guard ; still, 
as there was no knowing how far his plans might have sue* 



178 ASTOBIA. 

ceeded, and as any rash act might blow the mere smouldering 
sparks of treason into a sudden blaze, it was thought advisable 
by those with whom Mr. Hunt consulted, to conceal all knowl- 
edge or suspicion of the meditated treachery, but to keep up a 
vigilant watch upon the movements of Eose, and a strict guard 
upon the horses at night. 



CHAPTER XXV. 



The plains over which the travellers were journeying con« 
Unued to be destitute of trees or even shrubs ; insomuch that 
\>hey had to use the dung of the buffalo for fuel, as the Arabs of 
tne desert use that of the camel. This substitute for fuel is 
universal among the Indians of these upper prairies, and is 
said to make a fire equal to that of turf. If a few chips are 
added, it throws out a cheerful and kindly blaze. 

these plains, however, had not always been equally destitute 
of wood, as was evident from the trunks of the trees which 
the travellers repeatedly met with, some still standing, others 
lying about in broken fragments, but all in a fossil state, having 
flourished in times long past. In these singular remains, 
the original grain of the wood was still so distinct that they 
couM be ascertained to be the ruins of oak trees. Several 
pieces of the fossil wood were selected by the men to serve as 
whetstones. 

In this part of the journey there was no lack of provisions, 
for the prairies were covered with immense herds of buffalo. 
These, in general, are animals of peaceful demeanor, grazing 
quietly like domestic cattle ; but this was the season when they 
are in heat, and when the bulls are usually fierce and pugna- 
cious. There was accordingly a universal restlessness and 
commotion throughout the plain ; and the amorous herds gave 
utterance to their feelings in low bellowings that resounded 
like distant thunder. Here and there fierce duellos took place 
between rival enamorados ; butting their huge shagged fronts 
together, goring each other with their short black horns, and 
tearing up the earth with their feet in perfect fury. 

In one of the evening halts, Pierre Dorion, the interpreter, 
together with Carson and Gardpie, two of the hunters, were 
missing, nor had they returned by morning. As it was sup* 



ASTOBIA. 179 

posect they had wandered away in pursuit of buffalo, and would 
readily find the track of the party, no solicitude was felt on 
their account. A fire was left burning, to guide them by its 
column of smoke, and the travellers proceeded on their march. 
In the evening a signal fire was made on a hill adjacent to the 
camp, and in the morning it was replenished with fuel so as to 
last throughout the day. These signals are usual among the 
Indians, to give warnings to each other, or to call home strag- 
gling hunters ; and such is the transparency of the atmosphere 
in those elevated plains, that a slight column of smoke can be 
discerned from a great distance, particularly in the evening^ 
Two or three days elapsed, however, without the reappearance 
of the three hunters; and Mr. Hunt slackened his march to 
give them time to overtake him. 

A vigilant watch continued to be kept upon the movements 
of Rose, and of such of the men as were considered doubtful in 
their loyalty ; but nothing occurred to excite immediate appre- 
hensions. Rose evidently was not a favorite among his com- 
rades, and it was hoped that he had not been able to make any 
real partisans. 

On the 10th of August they encamped among hills, on the 
highest peak of which Mr. Hunt caused a huge pyre of pine 
wood to be made, which soon sent up a great column of flame 
that might be seen far and wide over the prairies. This lire 
blazed all night and was amply replenished at daybreak ; so 
that the towering pillar of smoke could not but be descried by 
the wanderers if within the distance of a day's journey. 

It is a common occurrence in these regions, where the 
features of the country so much resemble each other, for 
hunters to lose themselves and wander for many days, before 
they can find their way back to the main body of their party* 
In the present instance, however, a more than common solici- 
tude was felt, in consequence of the distrust awakened by the 
sinister designs of Rose. 

The route now became excessively toilsome, over a ridge 
of steep rocky hills, covered with loose stones. These were 
intersected by deep valleys, formed by two branches of Big 
River, coming from the south of west, both of which they 
crossed. These streams were bordered by meadows, well 
stocked with buffaloes. Loads of meat were brought in by 
the hunters ; but the travellers were rendered dainty by profu- 
sion, and would cook only the choice pieces. 

They had now travelled for several days at a very slow rate, 



180 ASTOBIA 

and had made signal fires and left traces of their route at 
every stage, yet nothing was heard or seen of the lost men. 
It began to be feared that they might have fallen into the 
hands of some lurking band of savages. A party numerous 
as that of Mr. Hunt, with a long train of pack-horses, moving 
across open plains or naked hills, is discoverable at a great 
distance by Indian scouts, who spread the intelligence rapidly 
:o various points, and assemble their friends to hang about 
i:he skirts of the ^ Tellers, steal their horses, or cut off any 
stragglers from the mam body. 

Mr. Hunt and his companions were more and more sensible 
how much it would be in the power of this sullen and daring 
vagabond Rose, to do *\em miscniei, when they should become 
entangled in the defiles of the mountains, with the passes of 
which they were wholly unacquainted, and which were in- 
fested by his freebooting friends, the Grows. There, should 
he succeed in seducing some of the party into his plans, he 
might carry off the best horses and effects, throw himself 
among h"^ savage allies, and set all pursuit at defiance. Mr. 
Hunt resolve therefore to frustrate the knave, divert him, by 
management, from his plans, and make it sufficiently advan- 
tageous for him to remain honest. He took occasion accord- 
ingly, in the course of conversation, to inform Rose that, 
having engaged him chiefly as a guide and interpreter through 
the country 01 the Crows, they would not stand in need of 
his services beyond. Knowing, therefore, his connection by 
marriage with that tribe, and his predilection for a residence 
among them, they would put no restraint upon his will, but, 
whenever they met with a party of that people, would leave 
him at liberty to remain among his adopted brethren 
Furthermore, that, in thus parting with him, they would pay 
him half a year's wages in consideration of his past services, 
and would give him a horse, three beaver traps, and sundry 
other articles calculated to set him up in the world. 

This unexpected liberality, which made it nearly as profita- 
ble and infinitely less hazardous for Rose to remain honest 
than to play the rogue, completely disarmed him. From that 
time his whole deportment underwent a change. His brow 
cleared up and appeared more cheerful ; he left off his sullen, 
skulking habits, and made no further attempts to tamper with 
the faith of his comrades. 

On the 13th of August Mr. Hunt varied his course, and in- 
clined westward, in hopes of failing in with the three lost 



1ST0BIA. 181 

hunters, who, it was now thought, might have kept to the 
right hand of Big River. This course soon brought h ; m to a 
fork of the Little Missouri, about a hundred yards wide, and 
resembling the great river of the same name in the strength of 
its current, its turbid water, and the frequency of drift-wood 
and sunken trees. 

Rugged mountains appeared ahead, crowding down to the 
water edge, and offering a barrier to further progress on the 
side they were ascending. Crossing the river, therefore, they 
encamped on its northwest bank, where they found good pas- 
turage and buffalo in abundance. The weather was overcast 
and rainy, and a general gloom pervaded the camp ; the voy- 
ageurs sat smoking in groups, with their shoulders as high as 
their heads, croaking their forebodings, when suddenly toward 
evening a shout of joy gave notice that the lost men were 
found. They came slowly lagging into the camp, with weary 
looks, and horses jaded and 'wayworn. They had, in fact, 
been for several days incessantly on the move. In their hunt- 
ing excursion on the prairies they had pushed so far in pursuit 
of buffalo as to find it impossible to retrace their steps over 
plains trampled by innumerable herds, and were baffled by 
the monotony of the landscape in their attempts to recall 
landmarks. They had ridden to and fro until they had almost 
lost the points of the compass, and become totally bewildered ; 
nor did they ever perceive any of the signal fires and columns 
of smoke made by their comrades. At length, about two 
days previously, when almost spent by anxiety and hard 
riding, they came, to their great joy, upon the u trail" of the 
party, which they had since followed up steadily. 

Those only who have experienced the warm cordiality that 
grows up between comrades in w r ild and adventurous expedi- 
tions of the kind, can picture to themselves the hearty cheer= 
ing with which the stragglers were welcomed to the camp. 
Every one crowded round them to ask questions, and to hear 
the story of their mishaps ; and even the squaw of the moody 
half-breed, Pierre Dorion, forgot the sternness of his domestic 
rule, and the conjugal discipline of the cudgel, in her joy at 
his safe return. 



182 ASTORIA. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

Mr. Hunt and his party were now on the skirts of the Black 
Hills, or Black Mountains, as they are sometimes called ; an 
extensive chain, lying about a hundred miles east of the Rocky 
Mountains, and stretching in a northeast direction from the 
south fork of the Nebraska or Platte River, to the great north 
bend of the Missouri. The Sierra or ridge of the Black Hills, 
in fact, forms the dividing line between the waters of the 
Missouri and those of the Arkansas and the Mississippi, and 
gives rise to the Cheyenne, the Little Missouri, and several 
tributary streams of the Yellowstone. 

The wild recesses of these hills, like those of the Rocky 
Mountains, are retreats and lurking-places for broken and pre- 
datory tribes, and it was among them that the remnant of the 
Cheyenne tribe took refuge, as has been stated, from their 
conquering enemies, the Sioux. 

The Black Hills are chiefly composed of sandstone, and in 
many places are broken into savage cliffs and precipices, and 
present the most singular and fantastic forms ; sometimes re- 
sembling towns and castellated fortresses. The ignorant in- 
habitants of plains are prone to clothe the mountains that 
bound their horizon with fanciful and superstitious attributes. 
Thus the wandering tribes of the prairies, who often behold 
clouds gathering round the summits of these hills, and light- 
ning flashing, and thunder pealing from them, when all the 
neighboring plains are serene and sunny, consider them the 
abode of the genii or thunder-spirits, who fabricate storms and 
tempests. On entering their denies, therefore, they often 
hang offerings on the trees, or place them on the rocks, to 
propitiate the invisible "lords of the mountains, "and procure 
good weather and successful hunting ; and they attach unusual 
significance to the echoes which haunt the precipices. This 
superstition may also have arisen, in part, from a natural 
phenomenon of a singular nature. In the most calm and 
serene weather, and at all times of the day or night, successive 
reports are now and then heard among these mountains, re- 
sembling the discharge of several pieces of artillery. Similar 
reports were heard by Messrs. Lewis and Clarke in the Rocky 



'ASTORIA. 183 

Mountains, which they say were attributed by the Indians to 
the bursting of the rich mines of silver contained in the bosom 
of the mountains. 

In fact these singular explosions have received fanciful 
explanations from learned men, and have not been satisfac- 
torily accounted for even by philosophers. They are said to 
occur frequently in Brazil. Vasconcelles, a Jesuit father, 
describes one which he heard in the Sierra, or mountain region 
of Piratininga, and which he compares to the discharges of a 
park of artillery. The Indians told him that it was an ex- 
plosion of stones. The worthy father had soon a satisfactory 
proof of the truth of their information, for the very place was 
found where a rock had burst and exploded from its entrails a 
stony mass, like a bomb-shell, and of the size of a bull's heart. 
This mass was broken either in its ejection or its fall, and 
wonderful was the internal organization revealed. It had a 
shell harder even than iron ; within which were arranged, like 
the seeds of a pomegranate, jewels of various colors; some 
transparent as crystal; others of a fine red, and others of 
mixed hues. The same phenomenon is said to occur occasion- 
ally in the adjacent province of Guayra, where stones of the 
bigness of a man's hand are exploded, with a loud noise, from 
the bosom of the earth, and scatter about glittering and beau- 
tiful fragments that look like precious gems, but are of no 
value. 

The Indians of the Orellanna, also, tell of horrible noises 
heard occasionally in the Paraguaxo, which they consider the 
throes and groans of the mountain, endeavoring to cast forth 
the precious stones hidden within its entrails. Others have 
endeavored to account for these discharges of " mountain 
artillery" on humbler principles ; attributing them to the loud 
reports made by the disruption and fall of great masses of 
rock, reverberated and prolonged by the echoes ; others, to the 
disengagement of hydrogen, produced by subterraneous beds 
of coal in a state of ignition. In whatever way this singular 
phenomenon may be accounted for, the existence of it appears 
to be well established. It remains one of the lingering mys- 
teries of nature which throw something of a supernatural 
charm over her wild mountain solitudes ; and we doubt 
whether the imaginative reader will not rather join with the 
poor Indian in attributing it to the thunder-spirits, or the guar- 
dian genii of unseen treasures, than to any commonplace phy- 
sical cause. 



184 ASTORIA. 

Whatever might be the supernatural influences among these 
mountains, the travellers found their physical difficulties hard 
to cope with. They made repeated attempts to find a passage 
through or over the chain, but were as often turned back by 
impassable barriers. Sometimes a defile seemed to open a 
practicable path, but it would terminate in some wild chaos of 
rocks and cliffs, which it was impossible to climb. The ani- 
mals of these solitary regions were different from those they 
had been accustomed to. The black-tailed deer would bound 
up the ravines on their approach, and the bighorn would gaze 
fearlessly down upon them from some impending precipice, or 
skip playfully from rock to rock. These animals are only to 
be met with in mountainous regions. The former is larger 
than the common deer, but its flesh is not equally esteemed by 
hunters. It has very large ears, and the tip of the tail is 
black, from which it derives its name. 

The bighorn is so named from its horns, which are of a great 
size, and twisted like those of a ram. It is called by some the 
argali, by others, the ibex, though differing from both of these 
animals. The Mandans call it the ahsahta, a name much bet- 
ter than the clumsy appellation which it generally bears. It 
is of the size of a small elk, or large deer, and of a dun color, 
excepting the belly and round the tail, where it is white. In 
its habits it resembles the goat, frequenting the rudest preci- 
pices; cropping the herbage from their edges; and, like the 
chamois, bounding lightly and securely among dizzy heights, 
where the hunter dares not venture. It is difficult, therefore, 
to get within shot of it. Ben Jones the hunter, however, in 
one of the passes of the Black Hills, succeeded in bringing 
down a bighorn from the verge of a precipice, the flesh of 
which was pronounced by the gourmands of the camp to have 
the flavor of excellent mutton. 

Baffled in his attempts to traverse this mountain chain, Mr 
Hunt skirted along it to the southwest, keeping it on the right, 
and still in hopes of finding an opening. At an early hour one 
day, he encamped in a narrow valley on the banks of a beauti- 
fully clear but rushy pool, surrounded by thickets bearing 
abundance of wild cherries, currants, and yellow and purple 
gooseberries. 

While the afternoon's meal was in preparation, Mr. Hunt 
and Mr. M'Kenzie ascended to the summit of the nearest hill, 
from whence, aided by the purity and transparency of the 
evening atmosphere, they commanded a vast prospect on all 



ASTORIA. 185 

sides. Below them extended a plain, dotted with innumerable 
herds of buffalo. Some were lying down among the herbage, 
others roaming in their unbounded pastures, while many were 
engaged in fierce contests like those already described, their 
low bello wings reaching the ear like the hoarse murmurs of 
the surf of a distant shore. 

Far off in the west they descried a range of lofty mountains 
printing the clear horizon, some of them evidently capped 
with snow. These they supposed to be the Big Horn Moun- 
tains, so called from the animal of that name, with which they 
abound. They are a spur of the great Rocky chain. The hill 
from whence Mr. Hunt had this prospect was, according to his 
computation, about two hundred and fifty miles from the 
Arickara village. 

On returning to the camp Mr. Hunt found some uneasi- 
ness prevailing among the Canadian voyageurs. In straying 
among the thickets they had beheld tracks of grizzly bears in 
every direction, doubtless attracted thither by the fruit. To 
their dismay, they now found that they had encamped in 
one of the favorite resorts of this dreaded animal. The idea 
marred all the comfort of the encampment. As night closed, 
the surrounding thickets were peopled with terrors ; insomuch 
that, according to Mr. Hunt, they could not help starting at 
every little breeze that stirred the bushes. 

The grizzly bear is the only really formidable quadruped of 
our continent. He is the favorite theme of the hunters of the 
far West, who describe him as equal in size to a common cow 
and of prodigious strength. He makes battle if assailed, and 
often, if pressed by hunger, is the assailant. If wounded, he 
becomes furious and will pursue the hunter. His speed ex- 
ceeds that of a man, but is inferior to that of a horse. In at- 
tacking he rears himself on his hind legs, and springs the 
length of his body. Woe to horse or rider that comes within 
the sweep of his terrific claws, which are sometimes nine 
inches in length, and tear everything before them. 

At the time we are treating of, the grizzly bear was still fre- 
quent on the Missouri, and in the lower country, but, like 
some of the broken tribes of the prairie, he has gradually fallen 
back before his enemies, and is now chiefly to be found in the 
upland regions, in rugged fastnesses, like those of the Black 
Hills and the Rocky Mountains. Here he lurks in caverns, or 
holes which he has digged in the sides of hills, or under the 
roots and trunks of fallen trees. Like the common bear he is 



186 AST0B1A. 

fond of fruits, and mast, and roots, the latter of which he will 
dig up with his fore claws. He is carnivorous also, and will 
even attack and conquer the lordly buffalo, dragging his huge 
carcass to the neighborhood of his den, that he may prey upon 
it at his leisure. 

The hunters, both white and red men, consider this the most 
heroic game. They prefer to hunt him on horseback, and will 
venture so near as sometimes to singe his hair with the flash 01 
the rifle. The hunter of the grizzly bear, however, must be 
an experienced hand, and know where to aim at a vital part ; 
for of all quadrupeds he is the most difficult to be killed. He 
will receive repeated wounds without flinching, and rarely is 
a shot mortal unless through the head or heart. 

That the dangers apprehended from the grizzly bear, at this 
night encampment, were not imaginary, was proved on the 
following morning. Among the hired men of the party was 
one William Cannon, who had been a soldier at one of the 
frontier posts, and entered into the employ of Mr. Hunt at 
Mackinaw. He was an inexperienced hunter and a poor shot, 
for which he was much bantered by his more adroit comrades. 
Piqued at their raillery, he had been practising ever since he 
had joined the expedition, but without success. In the course 
of the present afternoon, he went forth by himself to take a 
lesson in venerie, and, to his great delight, had the good for- 
tune to kill a buffalo. As he was a considerable distance from 
the camp, he cut out the tongue and some of the choice bits, 
made them into a parcel, and, slinging them on his shoulders 
by a strap passed round his forehead, as the voyageurs carry 
packages of goods, set out all glorious for the camp, anticipat- 
ing a triumph over his brother hunters. In passing through 
a narrow ravine he heard a noise behind him, and looking 
round beheld, to his dismay, a grizzly bear in full pursuit, ap- 
parently attracted by the scent of the meat. Cannon had 
heard so much of the invulnerability of this tremendous ani- 
mal, that he never attempted to fire, but, slipping the strap 
from his forehead, let go the buffalo meat and ran for his 
life. The bear did not stop to regale himself with the game, 
but kept on after the hunter. He had nearly overtaken him 
when Cannon reached a tree, and, throwing down his rifle, 
scrambled up it. The next instant Bruin was at the foot of 
the tree ; but, as this species of bear does not climb, he con- 
tented himself with turning the chase into a blockade. Night 
came on. In the darkness Cannon could not perceive whether 



ASTORIA, 187 

or not the enemy maintained his station ; but his fears pic- 
tured him rigorously mounting guard. He passed the night, 
therefore, in the tree, a prey to dismal fancies. In the morn- 
ing the bear was gone. Cannon warily descended the tree, 
gathered up his gun, and made the best of his way back to 
the camp, without venturing to look after his buffalo meat. 

While on this theme we will add another anecdote of an ad 
7enture with a grizzly bear, told of John Day, the Kentucky 
Lunter, but which happened at a different period of the expe 
dition. Day was hunting in company with one of the clerks 
of the company, a lively youngster, who was a great favorite 
with the veteran, but whose vivacity he had continually tc 
keep in check. They were in search of deer, when suddenly e 
huge grizzly bear emerged from a thicket about thirty yards 
distant, rearing himself upon his hind legs with a terrific 
growl, and displaying a hideous array of teeth and claws. 
The rifle of the young man was levelled in an instant, but 
John Day's iron hand was as quickly upon his arm. "Be 
quiet, boy! be quiet!" exclaimed the hunter, between his 
clenched teeth, and without turning his eyes from the bear. 
They remained motionless. The monster regarded them tor 
a time, then, lowering himself on his fore paws, slowly with- 
drew. He had not gone many paces before he again turned, 
reared himself on his hind legs, and repeated his menace. 
Day's hand was still on the arm of his young companion ; he 
again pressed it hard, and kept repeating between his teeth, 
" Quiet, boy !— keep quiet !— keep quiet !" though the latter had 
not made a move since his first prohibition. The bear again 
lowered himself on all fours, retreated some twenty yards 
further, and again turned, reared, showed his teeth, and 
growled. This third menace was too much for the game 
spirit of John Day. " By Jove!" exclaimed he, "I can stand 
this no longer," and in an instant a ball from his rifle whizzed 
into the foe. The wound was not mortal ; but, luckily, it dis- 
mayed instead of enraging the animal, and he retreated into 
the thicket. 

Day's young companion reproached him for not practising 
the caution which he enjoined upon others. "Why, boy," 
replied the veteran, "caution is caution, but one must not put 
up with too much even from a bear. Would you have me suf= 
fer myself to be bullied all day by a varmint?" 



188 ASTORIA. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

For the two following days the travellers pursued a west 
rly course for thirty -four miles along a ridge of country divid 
ig the tributary waters of the Missouri and the Yellowstone. 
As landmarks they guided themselves by the summits of the 
far distant mountains, which they supposed to belong to the 
Big Horn chain. They were gradually rising into a higher 
temperature, for the weather was cold for the season, with a 
sharp frost in the night, and ice of an eighth of an inch in 
thickness: 

On the twenty-second of August, early in the day, they came 
iroon the trail of a numerous band. Eose and the other hunters 
examined the footprints with great attention, and determined 
it jo be the trail of a party of Crows returning from an annual 
trading visit to the Mandans. As this trail afforded more 
commodious travelling, they immediately struck into it, and 
toiiowed it for two days. It led them over rough hills, and 
through broken gullies, during which time they suffered great 
fatigue from the ruggedness of the country. The weather, too, 
which had recently been frosty, was now oppressively warm, 
and there was a great scarcity of water, insomuch that a valu- 
able dog belonging to Mr. M'Kenzie died of thirst. 

At one time they had twenty-five miles of painful travel, 
without a drop of water, until they arrived at a small running 
stream. Here they eagerly slaked their thirst ; but, this being 
allayed, the calls of hunger became equally importunate. 
Ever since they had got among these barren and arid hills, 
where there was a deficiency of grass, they had met with no 
buffaloes, those animals keeping in the grassy meadows near 
the streams. They were obliged, therefore, to have recourse to 
their corn meal, which they reserved for such emergencies. 
Some, however, were lucky enough to kill a wolf, which they 
cooked for supper, and pronounced excellent food. 

The next morning they resumed their wayfaring, hungry 
and jaded, and had a dogged march of eighteen miles among 
the same kind of hills. At length they emerged upon a stream 
of clear water, one of the forks of Powder River, and to their 
2:reat joy beheld once more wide grassy meadows, stocked 



ASTOBT& 189 

with herds of buffalo. For several days they kept along the 
banks of the river, ascending it about eighteen miles. It was & 
hunter's paradise ; the buffaloes were in such abundance that 
they were enabled to kill as many as they pleased, and to 
jerk a sufficient supply of meat for several days' journeying. 
Here, then, they revelled and reposed after their hungry and 
weary travel, hunting and feasting, and reclining upon the 
grass. Their quiet, however, was a little marred by coming 
upon traces of Indians, who, they concluded, must be Crows; 
they were therefore obliged to keep a more vigilant watch than 
ever upon their horses. For several days they had been direct- 
ing their march toward the lofty mountain described by Mr. 
Hunt and Mr. M'Kenzie on the 17th of August, the height of 
which rendered it a landmark over a vast extent of country. 
At first it had appeared to them solitary and detached ; but as 
they advanced toward it, it proved to be the principal summit 
of a chain of mountains. Day by day it varied in form, or 
rather its lower peaks, and the summits of others of the chain 
emerged above the clear horizon, and finally the inferior line 
of hills which connected most of them rose to view. So far, 
however, are objects discernible in the pure atmosphere of 
these elevated plains, that, from the place where they first 
descried the main mountain, they had to travel a hundred and 
fifty miles before they reached its base. Here they encamped 
on the thirtieth of August, having come nearly four hundred 
miles since leaving the Arickara village. 

The mountain which now towered above them was one of the 
Big Horn chain, bordered by a river of the same name, and 
extending for a long distance rather east of north and west of 
south. It was a part of the great system of granite mountains 
Yfhich forms one of the most important and striking features 
of North America, stretching parallel to the coast of the Pacific 
from the Isthmus of Panama almost to the Arctic Ocean, and 
presenting a corresponding chain to that of the Andes in the 
southern hemisphere. This vast range has acquired, from its 
rugged and broken character, and its summits of naked gran- 
ite, the appellation of the Eocky Mountains, a name by no 
means distinctive, as all elevated ranges are rocky. Among 
the early explorers it was known as the range of Chippewyan 
Mountains, and this Indian name is the one it is likely to re- 
tain in poetic usage. Eising from the midst of vast plains and 
prairies, traversing several degrees of latitude, dividing the 
waters of the Atlantic and the Pacific, and seeming to bind 



190 ASTORIA. 

with diverging ridges the level regions on rts flanks, it has 
been figuratively termed the backbone of the northern con- 
tinent. 

The Eocky Mountains do not present a range of uniform 
elevation, but rather groups and occasionally detached peaks. 
Though some of these rise to the region of perpetual snows, 
and are upward of eleven thousand feet in real altitude, yet 
their height from their immediate basis is not so great as might 
be imagined, as they swell up from elevated plains, several 
thousand feet above the level of the ocean. These plains are 
often of a desolate sterility ; mere sandy wastes, formed of the 
detritus of the granite heights, destitute of trees and herbage, 
scorched by the ardent and reflected rays of the summer's sun, 
and in winter swept by chilling blasts from the snow-clad 
mountains. Such is a great part of that vast region extending 
north and south along the mountains, several hundred miles in 
width, which has not improperly been termed the Great Ameri- 
can Desert. It is a region that almost discourages all hope of 
cultivation, and can only be traversed with safety by keeping 
near the streams which intersect it. Extensive plains likewise 
occur among the higher regions of the mountains, of consider- 
able fertility. Indeed, these lofty plats of table-land seem to 
form a peculiar feature in the American continents. Some 
occur among the Cordilleras of the Andes, where cities and 
towns and cultivated farms are to be seen eight thousand feet 
above the level of the sea. 

The Eocky Mountains, as we have already observed, occur 
sometimes singly or in groups, and occasionally in collateral 
ridges. Between these are deep valleys, with small streams 
winding through them, which find their way into the lower 
plains, augmenting as they proceed, and ultimately discharg- 
ing themselves into those vast rivers which traverse the 
prairies like great arteries and drain the continent. 

While the granitic summits of the Eocky Mountains are 
bleak and bare, many of the inferior ridges are scantily clothed 
with scrubbed pines, oaks, cedar, and furze. Various parts of 
the mountains also bear traces of volcanic action. Some of the 
interior valleys are strewed with scoria and broken stones, 
evidently of volcanic origin; the surrounding rocks bear the 
like character, and vestiges of extinguished craters are to be 
seen on the elevated heights. 

We have already noticed the superstitious feelings with 
which the Indians regard theJBlack Hills ; but this immense 



ASTORIA. 191 

range of mountains, which divides all that they know of the 
world, and gives birth to such mighty rivers, is still more an 
object of awe and veneration. They call it "the crest of the 
world," and think that Wacondah, or the master of life, as 
they designate the Supreme Being, has his residence among 
these aerial heights. The tribes on the eastern prairies call 
them the mountains of the setting sun. Some of them place 
the " happy hunting-grounds," their ideal paradise, among the 
recesses of these mountains ; but say they are invisible to liv- 
ing men. Here also is the " Land of Souls," in which are the 
"towns of the free and generous spirits," where those who 
have pleased the master of life while living, enjoy after death 
all manner of delights. 

Wonders are told of these mountains by the distant tribes, 
whose warriors or hunters have ever wandered in their neigh- 
borhood. It is thought by some that, after death, they will 
have to travel to these mountains and ascend one of their high- 
est and most rugged peaks, among rocks, and snows, and tum- 
bling torrents. After many moons of painful toil they will reach 
the summit, from whence they will have a view over the land 
of souls. There they will see the happy hunting-grounds, with 
the souls of the brave and good living in tents in green mead- 
ows, by bright running streams, or hunting the herds of buffalo, 
and elks, and deer, which have been slain on earth. There, 
too, they will see the villages or towns of the free and generous 
spirits brightening in the midst of delicious prairies. If they 
have acquitted themselves well while living, they will be per- 
mitted to descend and enjoy this happy country ; if otherwise, 
they will but be tantalized with this prospect of it, and then 
hurled back from the mountain to wander about the sandy 
plains, and endure the eternal pangs of unsatisfied thirst and 
hunger. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

The travellers had now arrived in the vicinity of the moun- 
tain regions infested by the Crow Indians. These restless 
marauders, as has already been observed, are apt to be con- 
tinually on the prowl about the skirts of the mountains ; and 
even when encamped in some deep and secluded glen, they 



192 ASTORIA. 

keep scouts upon the cliffs and promontories, who, unseen 
themselves, can discern every living thing that moves over the 
subjacent plains and valleys. It was not to be expected that 
our travellers could pass unseen through are gion thus vigi- 
lantly sentinelled ; accordingly, in the edge of the evening, not 
long after they had encamped at the foot of the Big Horn 
Sierra, a couple of wild-looking beings, scantily clad in skins, 
but weU armed, and mounted on horses as wild-looking as 
themselves, were seen approaching with great caution from 
among the rocks. They might have been mistaken for two of 
the evil spirits of the mountains so formidable in Indian fable. 

Rose was immediately sent out to hold a parley with them, 
and invite them to the camp. They proved to be two scouts 
from the same band that had been tracked for some days past, 
and which was now encamped at some distance in the folds of 
the mountain. They were easily prevailed upon to come to the 
camp, where they were well received, and, after remaining 
there until late in the evening, departed to make a report of all 
they had seen and experienced to their companions. 

The following day had scarce dawned when a troop of these 
wild mountain scamperers came galloping with whoops and 
yells into the camp, bringing an invitation from their chief for 
the white men to visit him. The tents were accordingly struck, 
the horses laden, and the party were soon on the march. The 
Crow horsemen, as they escorted them, appeared to take pride 
in showing off their equestrian skill and hardihood ; careering 
at full speed on their half -savage steeds, and dashing among 
rocks and crags, and up and down the most rugged and dan- 
gerous places with perfect ease and unconcern. 

A ride of sixteen miles brought them, in the afternoon, in 
sight of the Crow camp. It was composed of leathern tents, 
pitched in a meadow on the border of a small clear stream at 
the foot of the mountain. A great number of horses were 
grazing in the vicinity, many of them doubtless captured in 
'marauding excursions. 

The Crow chieftain came forth to meet his guests with great 
professions of friendship, and conducted them to his tents, 
pointing out, by the way, a convenient place where they might 
fix their camp. No sooner had they done so than Mr. Hunt 
opened, some of the packages and made the chief a present of 
a scarlet blanket, and a quantity of powder and ball ; he gave 
him also some knives, trinkets, and tobacco to be distributed 
among his warriors, with all which the grim potentate seemed 



ASTOBIA. 193 

for the time well pleased. As the Crows, however, were reputed 
to be perfidious in the extreme, and as errant freebooters as the 
bird after which they were so worthily named, and as their gen- 
eral feelings toward the whites were known to be by no means 
friendly, the intercourse with them was conducted with great 
circumspection. 

The following day was passed in trading with the Crows for 
buffak) robes and skins, and in bartering galled and jaded 
horses for others that were in good condition. Some of the 
men also purchased horses on their own account, so that the 
number now amounted to one hundred and twenty-one, most 
of them sound and active and fit for mountain service. 

Their wants being supplied, they ceased all further traffic, 
much to the dissatisfaction of the Crows, who became extremely 
urgent to continue the trade, and, finding their importunities 
of no avail, assumed an insolent and menacing tone. All this 
was attributed by Mr. Hunt and his associates to the perfidious 
instigations of Rose the interpreter, who they suspected of the 
desire to foment ill-will between them and the savages, for the 
promotion of his nefarious plans. M'Lellan, with his usual 
tranchant mode of dealing out justice, resolved to shoot the 
desperado on the spot in case of any outbreak. Nothing of the 
kind, however, occurred. The Crows were probably daunted 
by the resolute though quiet demeanor of the white men, and 
the constant vigilance and armed preparations which they 
maintained ; and Rose, if he really still harbored his knavish 
designs, must have perceived that they were suspected, and, if 
attempted to be carried into effect, might bring ruin on his 
own head. 

The next morning, bright and early, Mr. Hunt proposed to 
resume his journeying. He took a ceremonious leave of the 
Crow chieftain and his vagabond warriors, and according to 
previous arrangements, consigned to their cherishing friend- 
ship and fraternal adoption their worthy confederate, Rose ; 
who, having figured among the water pirates of the Missis- 
sippi, was well fitted to rise to distinction among the land 
pirates of the Rocky Mountains. 

It is proper to add that the ruffian was well received among 
the tribe, and appeared to be perfectly satisfied with the 
compromise he had made, feeling much more at his ease 
among savages than among white men. It is outcasts from 
civilization, fugitives from justice, and heartless desperadoes 
of this kind, who sow the seeds of enmity and bitterness 



194 ASTORIA. 

among the unfortunate tribes of the frontier. There is no 
enemy so implacable against a country or a community as one 
of its own people who has rendered himself an alien by his 
crimes. 

Eight glad to be relieved from this treacherous companion, 
Mr. Hunt pursued his course along the skirts of the mountain, 
in a southern direction, seeking for some practicable defile by 
which he might pass through it; none such presented, how- 
ever, in the course of fifteen miles, and he encamped on a 
small stream, still on the outskirts. The green meadows 
which border these mountain streams are generally well 
stocked with game, and the hunters soon killed several fat 
elks, which supplied the camp with fresh meat. In the even- 
ing the travellers were surprised by an unwelcome visit from 
several Crows belonging to a different band from that which 
they had recently left, and who said their camp was among 
the mountains. The consciousness of being environed by such 
dangerous neighbors, and of being still within the range of 
Kose and his fellow ruffians, obliged the party to be continu- 
ally on the alert, and to maintain weary vigils throughout the 
night, lest they should be robbed of their horses. 

On the third of September, finding that the mountain still 
stretched onward, presenting a continued barrier, they en- 
deavored to force a passage to the westward, but soon became 
entangled among rocks and precipices which set all their 
efforts at defiance. The mountain seemed, for the most part, 
rugged, bare, and sterile; yet here and there it was clothed 
with pines and with shrubs and flowering plants, some of 
which were in bloom. In toiling among these weary places 
their thirst became excessive, for no water was to be met with. 
Numbers of the men wandered off into rocky dells and ravines 
in hopes of finding some brook or fountain ; some of whom lost 
their way and did not rejoin the main party. - 

After half a day of painful and fruitless scrambling, Mr. 
Hunt gave up the attempt to penetrate in this direction, and 
returning to the little stream on the skirts of the mountain, 
pitched his tents within six miles of his encampment of the 
preceding night. He now ordered that signals should be made 
for the stragglers in quest of water, but the night passed away 
without their return. 

The next morning, to their surprise, Rose made his appear 
ance at the camp, accompanied by some of his Crow associates. 
His unwelcome visit revived their suspicions; but he an 



ASTORIA. 195 

nounced himself as a messenger of good- will from the chief, 
who, finding they had taken a wrong road, had sent Rose and 
his companions to guide them to a nearer and better one across 
the mountain. 

Having no choice, being themselves utterly at fault, they set 
out under this questionable escort. They had not gone far be- 
fore they fell in with the whole party of Crows, who, they now 
found, were going the same road with themselves. The two 
cavalcades of white and red men, therefore, pushed on to- 
gether, and presented a wild and picturesque spectacle, as, 
equipped with various weapons and in various garbs, with 
trains of pack-horses, they wound in long lines through the 
rugged defiles, and up and down the crags and steeps of the 
mountain. 

The travellers had again an opportunity to see and admire 
the equestrian habitudes and address of this hard-riding tribe. 
They were all mounted, man, woman, and child, for the Crows 
have horses in abundance, so that no one goes on foot. The 
children are perfect imps on horseback. Among them was 
one so young that he could not yet speak. He was tied on a 
colt of two years old, but managed the reins as if by instinct, 
and plied the whip with true Indian prodigality. Mr. Hunt 
inquired the age of this infant jockey, and was answered that 
u he had seen two winters." 

This is almost realizing the fable of the centaurs ; nor can 
we wonder at the equestrian adroitness of these savages, who 
are thus in a manner cradled in the saddle, and become in in- 
fancy almost identified with the animal they bestride. 

The mountain defiles were exceedingly rough and broken, 
and the travelling painful to the burdened horses. The party, 
therefore, proceeded but slowly, and were gradually left be- 
hind by the band of Crows, who had taken the lead. It is 
more than probable that Mr. Hunt loitered in his course, to get 
rid of such doubtful fellow-travellers. Certain it is that he felt 
a sensation of relief as he saw the whole crew, the renegade 
Eose and all, disappear among the windings of the mountain, 
and heard the last yelp of the savages die away in the dis- 
tance. 

When they were fairly out of sight, and out of nearing, he 
encamped on the head waters of the little stream of the pre- 
ceding day, having come about sixteen miles. Here he re- 
mained all the succeeding day, as well to give time for the 
Crows to get in the advance, as for the stragglers, who had 



196 ASTORIA. 

wandered away in quest of water two days previously, to re- 
join the camp. Indeed, considerable uneasiness began to be 
felt concerning these men, lest they should become utterly be- 
wildered in the defiles of the mountains, or should fall into the 
hands of some marauding band of savages. Some of the most 
experienced hunters were sent in search of them, others, in the 
mean time, employed themselves in hunting. The narrow 
valley in which they encamped, being watered by a running 
stream, yielded fresh pasturage, and, though in the heart of 
the Big Horn Mountains, was well stocked with buffalo. 
Several of these were killed, as also a grizzly bear. In the 
evening, to the satisfaction of all parties, the stragglers made 
their appearance, and provisions being in abundance, there 
was hearty good cheer in the camp. 



CHAPTER XXIX 



Resuming their course on the following morning, Mr. Hunt 
and his companions continued on westward through a rugged 
region of hills and rocks, but diversified in many places by 
grassy little glens, with springs of water, bright sparkling 
brooks, clumps of pine trees, and a profusion of flowering 
plants, which were in full bloom, although the weather was 
frosty. These beautiful and verdant recesses, running through 
and softening the rugged mountains, were cheering and re- 
freshing to the way-worn travellers. 

In the course of the morning, as they were entangled in a 
defile, they beheld a small band of savages, as wild looking as 
the surrounding scenery, who reconnoitred them warily from 
the rocks before they ventured to advance. Some of them 
were mounted on horses rudely caparisoned, with bridles or 
halters of buffalo hide, one end trailing after them on the 
ground. They proved to be a mixed party of Flatheads and 
Shoshonies, or Snakes; and as these tribes will be frequently 
mentioned in the course of this work, we shall give a few in- 
troductory particulars concerning them. 

The Flatheads in question are not to be confounded with 
those of the name who dwell about the lower waters of the 
Columbia; neither do they flatten their heads as the others do. 
They inhabit the banks of a river on the west side of the 



ASTORIA. 197 

mountains, and are described as simple, honest, and hospita- 
ble. Like all people of similar character, whether civilized 
or savage, they are prone to be imposed upon ; and are espe- 
cially maltreated by the ruthless Blackfeet, who harass them 
in their villages, steal their horses by night, or openly carry 
them off in the face of day, without provoking pursuit or re- 
taliation. 

The Shoshonies are a branch of the once powerful and pros- 
perous tribe of the Snakes, who possessed a glorious hunting 
country about the upper forks of the Missouri, abounding in 
beaver and buffalo. Their hunting-ground was occasionally 
invaded by the Blackfeet, but the Snakes battled bravely for 
their domains, and a long and bloody feud existed, with varia- 
ble success. At length the Hudson's Bay Company, extending 
their trade into the interior, had dealings with the Blackfeet, 
who were nearest to them, and supplied them with firearms. 
The Snakes, who occasionally traded with the Spaniards, en- 
deavored, but in vain, to obtain similar weapons; the Spanish 
traders wisely refused to arm them so formidably. The Black- 
feet had now a vast advantage, and soon dispossessed the poor 
Snakes of their favorite hunting-grounds, their land of plenty, 
and drove them from place to place, until they were fain to 
take refuge in the wildest and most desolate recesses of the 
Rocky Mountains. Even here they are subject to occasional 
visits from their implacable foes, as long as they have horses, 
or any other property to tempt the plunderer. Thus by de- 
grees the Snakes have become a scattered, broken-spirited, 
impoverished people, keeping about lonely rivers and moun- 
tain streams, and subsisting chiefly upon fish. Such of them 
as still possess horses, and occasionally figure as hunters, are 
called Shoshonies ; but there is another class, the most abject 
and forlorn, who are called Shuckers, or more commonly Dig- 
gers and Eoot Eaters. These are a shy, secret, solitary race, 
who keep in the most retired parts of the mountains, lurking 
like gnomes in caverns and clefts of the rocks, and subsisting 
ia a great measure on the roots of the earth. Sometimes, in 
passing through a solitary mountain valley, the traveller 
comes perchance upon the bleeding carcass of a deer or buffalo 
that has just been slain. He looks round in vain for the 
hunter; the whole landscape is lifeless and deserted; at length 
he perceives a thread of smoke, curling up from among the crags 
and cliffs, and, scrambling to the place, finds some forlorn and 
skulking brood of Diggers, terrified at being discovered. 



198 ASTOBIA. 

The Shoshonies, however, who, as has been observed, have 
still " horse to ride and weapon to wear," are somewhat bolder 
in their spirit, and more open and wide in their wanderings. 
In the autumn, when salmon disappear from the rivers, and 
hunger begins to pinch, they even venture down into their 
ancient hunting-grounds, to make a foray among the buffaloes. 
In this perilous enterprise they are occasionally joined by the 
Flatheads, the persecutions of the Blackfeet having produced 
a close alliance and co-operation between these luckless and 
maltreated tribes. Still, notwithstanding their united force, 
every step they take within the debatable ground is taken in 
fear and trembling, and with the utmost precaution ; and an 
Indian trader assures us that he has seen at least five hundred 
of them, armed and equipped for action, and keeping watch 
upon the hill tops, while about fifty were hunting in the 
prairie. Their excursions are brief and hurried; as soon as 
they have collected and jerked sufficient buffalo meat for 
winter provisions, they pack their horses, abandon the dan- 
gerous hunting grounds, and hasten back to the mountains, 
happy if they have not the terrible Blackfeet rattling after 
them. 

Such a confederate band of Shoshonies and Flatheads was 
the one met by our travellers. It was bound on a visit to the 
Arapahoes, a tribe inhabiting the banks of the Nebraska. 
They were armed to the best of their scanty means, and some 
of the Shoshonies had bucklers of buffalo hide, adorned with 
feathers and leathern fringes, and which have a charmed 
virtue in their eyes, from having been prepared, with mystic 
ceremonies, by their conjurors. 

In company with this wandering band our travellers pro- 
ceeded all day. In the evening they encamped near to each 
other in a defile of the mountains, on the borders of a stream 
running north and falling into Big Horn Eiver. In the vicinity 
of the camp they found gooseberries, strawberries, and cur- 
rants in great abundance. The defile bore traces of having 
been a thoroughfare for countless herds of buffaloes, though 
not one was to be seen. The hunters succeeded in killing an 
elk and several black-tailed deer. 

They were now in the bosom of the second Big Horn ridge, 
with another lofty and snow-crowned mountain full in view to 
the west. Fifteen miles of western course brought them, on 
the following day, down into an intervening plain, well stocked 
with buffalo. Here the Snakes and Flatheads joined with the 



ASTORIA. 199 

white hunters in a successful hunt, that soon filled the camp 
with provisions. 

On the morning of the 9th of September the travellers parted 
company with their Indian friends, and continued on their 
course to the west. A march of thirty miles brought them, 
in the evening, to the banks of a rapid and beautifully clear 
stream about a hundred yards wide. It is the north fork or 
branch of the Big Horn River, but bears its peculiar name of 
the Wind River, from being subject in the winter season to a 
continued blast which sweeps its banks and prevents the snow 
from lying on them. This blast is said to be caused by a nar- 
row gap or funnel in the mountains, through which the river 
forces its way between perpendicular precipices, resembling 
cut rocks. 

This river gives its name to a whole range of mountains, 
consisting of three parallel chains, eighty miles in length, and 
about twenty or twenty-five broad. One of its peaks is prob- 
ably fifteen thousand feet above the level of the sea, being one 
of the highest of the Rocky Sierra. These mountains give 
rise, not merely to the Wind or Big Horn River, but to several 
branches of the Yellowstone and the Missouri on the east, and 
of the Columbia and Colorado on the west, thus dividing the 
sources of these mighty streams. 

For five succeeding days Mr. Hunt and his party continued 
up the course of the Wind River, to the distance of about 
eighty miles, crossing and recrossing it, according to its wind- 
ings and the nature of its banks ; sometimes passing through 
valleys, at other times scrambling over rocks and hills. The 
country in general was destitute of trees, but they passed 
through groves of wormwood, eight and ten feet in height, 
which they used occasionally for fuel, and they met with large 
quantities of wild flax. 

The mountains were destitute of game ; they came in sight 
of two grizzly bears, but could not get near enough for a shot; 
provisions, therefore, began to be scanty. They saw large 
flights of the kind of thrush commonly called the robin, and 
many smaller birds of migratory species ; but the hills in gene- 
ral appeared lonely and with few signs of animal life. On the 
evening of the 14th of September they encamped on the forks 
of the Wind or Big Horn River. The largest of these forks 
came from the range of Wind River Mountains. 

The hunters who served as guides to the party in this part of 
their route had assured Mr. Hunt that, by following up Wind 



200 ASTORIA. 

River, and crossing a single mountain ridge, he would come 
upon the head waters of the Columbia. The scarcity of game, 
however, which already had been felt to a pinching degree, and 
which threatened them with famine among the sterile heights 
which lay before them, admonished them to change their 
course. It was determined, therefore, to make for a stream, 
which, they were informed, passed the neighboring mountains 
to the south of west, on the grassy banks of which it was prob- 
able they would meet with buffalo. Accordingly, about three 
o'clock on the following day, meeting with a beaten Indian 
road which led in the proper direction, they struck into it, 
turning their backs upon Wind River. 

In the course of the day they came to a height that com- 
manded an almost boundless prospect. Here one of the guides 
paused, and, after considering the vast landscape attentively, 
pointed to three mountain peaks glistening with snow, which 
rose, he said, above a fork of Columbia River. They were 
hailed by the travellers with that joy with which a beacon on 
a sea-shore is hailed by mariners after a long and dangerous 
voyage. It is true there was many a weary league to be trav- 
ersed before they should reach these landmarks, for, allowing 
for their evident height and the extreme transparency of the 
atmosphere, they could not be much less than a hundred miles 
distant. Even after reaching them there would yet remain 
hundreds of miles of their journey to be accomplished. All 
these matters were forgotten in the joy at seeing the first land- 
marks of the Columbia, that river which formed the bourne of 
the expedition. These remarkable peaks are known to some 
travellers as the Tetons ; as they had been guiding points, for 
many days, to Mr. Hunt, he gave them the name of the Pilot 
Knobs. 

The travellers continued their course to the south of west for 
about forty miles, through a region so elevated that patches of 
snow lay on the highest summits, and on the northern declivi- 
ties. At length they came to the desired stream, the object of 
their search, the waters of which flowed to the west. It was, 
in fact, a branch of the Colorado, which falls into the gulf of 
California, and had received from the hunters the name of 
Spanish River, from information given by the Indians that 
Spaniards resided upon its lower waters. 

The aspect of this river and its vicinity was cheering to the 
way-worn and hungry travellers. Its banks were green, and 
there were grassy valleys running from it in various direc 



ASTORIA. 201 

tions, into the heart of the rugged mountains, with herds of 
buffalo quietly grazing. The hunters sallied forth with keen 
alacrity, and soon returned laden with provisions. 

In this part of the mountains Mr. Hunt met with three dif 
ferent kinds of gooseberries. The common purple, on a low 
and very thorny bush; a yellow kind, of an excellent flavor, 
growing on a stock free from thorns ; and a deep purple, of the 
size and taste of our winter grape, with a thorny stalk. There 
were also three kinds of currants, one very large and well 
tasted, of a purple color, and growing on a bush eight or nine 
feet high. Another of a yellow color, and of the size and taste 
of the large red currant, the bush four or five feet high ; and 
the third a beautiful scarlet, resembling the strawberry in 
sweetness, though rather insipid and growing on a low bush. 

On the 17th they continued down the course of the river, 
making fifteen miles to the southwest. The river abounded 
with geese and ducks, and there were signs of its being inhab- 
ited by beaver and otters ; indeed they were now approaching 
regions where these animals, the great objects of the fur trade, 
are said to abound. They encamped for the night opposite the 
end of a mountain in the west, which was probably the last 
chain of the Rocky Mountains. On the following morning 
they abandoned the main course of Spanish River, and taking 
a northwest direction for eight miles, came upon one of its little 
tributaries, issuing out of the bosom of the mountains, and 
running through green meadows, yielding pasturage to herds 
of buffalo. As these were probably the last of that animal 
they would meet with, they encamped on the grassy banks of 
the river, determining to spend several days in hunting, so as 
to be able to jerk sufficient meat to supply them until they 
should reach the waters of the Columbia, where they trusted 
to find fish enough for their support. A little repose, too, was 
necessary for both men and horses, after their rugged and in- 
cessant marching ; having in the course of the last seventeen 
days traversed two hundred and sixty miles of rough, and in 
many parts sterile mountain country. 



202 ASTORIA. 



CHAPTEE XXX. 

Five days were passed by Mr. Hunt and his companions in 
Che fresh meadows watered by the bright little mountain 
stream. The hunters made great havoc among the buffaloes, 
and brought in quantities of meat ; the voyageurs busied them- 
selves about the fires, roasting and stewing for present pur- 
poses, or drying provisions for the journey ; the pack-horses, 
eased of their burdens, rolled on the grass or grazed at large 
about the ample pastures ; those of the party who had no call 
upon their services indulged in the luxury of perfect relaxa- 
tion, and the camp presented a picture of rude feasting and 
revelry, of mingled bustle and repose, characteristic of a halt 
In a fine hunting country. In the course of one of their excur- 
sions some of the men came in sight of a small party of In- 
dians, who instantly fled in great apparent consternation. They 
immediately returned to camp with the intelligence; upon 
which Mr. Hunt and four others flung themselves upon their 
horses and sallied forth to reconnoitre. After riding for about 
eight miles they came upon a wild mountain scene. A lonely 
green valley stretched before them, surrounded by rugged 
heights. A herd of buffalo were careering madly through it, 
with a troop of savage horsemen in full chase, plying them 
with their bows and arrows. The appearance of Mr. Hunt and 
his companions put an abrupt end to the hunt; the buffalo 
scuttled off in one direction, while the Indians plied their lashes 
and galloped off in another, as fast as their steeds could carry 
them. Mr. Hunt gave chase; there was a sharp scamper, 
though of short continuance. Two young Indians, who were 
indifferently mounted, were soon overtaken. They were ter- 
ribly frightened, and evidently gave themselves up for lost. 
By degrees their fears were allayed by kind treatment ; but 
they continued to regard the strangers with a mixture of awe 
and wonder; for it was the first time in their lives they had 
ever seen a white man. 

They belonged to a party of Snakes who had come across the 
mountains on their autumnal hunting excursion to provide 
buffalo meat for the winter. Being persuaded of the peacea- 
ble intentions of Mr. Hunt and his companions, they willingly 



ASTORIA. 203 

conducted them to their camp. It was pitched in a narrow 
valley on the margin of a stream. The tents were of dressed 
skins, some of them fantastically painted, with horses grazing 
ahout them. The approach of the party caused a transient 
alarm in the camp, for these poor Indians were ever on the look- 
out for cruel foes. No sooner, however, did they recognize the 
garb and complexion of their visitors than their apprehensions 
were changed into joy ; for some of them had dealt with white 
men, and knew them to be friendly, and to abound with arti- 
cles of singular value. They welcomed them, therefore, to 
their tents, set food before them, and entertained them to the 
best of their power. 

They had been successful in their hunt, and their camp was 
full of jerked buffalo meat, all of the choicest kind, and ex- 
tremely fat. Mr. Hunt purchased enough of them, in addition 
to what had been killed and cured by his own hunters, to load 
all the horses excepting those reserved for the partners and the 
wife of Pierre Dorion. He found also a few beaver skins in 
their camp, for which he paid liberally, as an inducement to 
them to hunt for more, informing them that some of his party 
intended to live among the mountains, and trade with the 
native hunters for their peltries. The poor Snakes soon com- 
prehended the advantages thus held out to them, and promised 
to exert themselves to procure a quantity of beaver skins for 
future traffic. 

Being now well supplied with provisions, Mr. Hunt broke up 
his encampment on the 24th of September, and continued on 
to the west. A march of fifteen miles, over a mountain ridge, 
brought them to a stream about fifty feet in width, which Ho- 
back, one of their guides, who had trapped about the neigh- 
borhood when in the service of Mr. Henry, recognized for one 
of the head waters of the Columbia. The travellers hailed it 
with delight, as the first stream they had encountered tending 
toward their point of destination. They kept along it for two 
days, during which, from the contribution of many rills and 
brooks, it gradually swelled into a small river. As it mean- 
dered among rocks and precipices, they were frequently 
obliged to ford it, and such was its rapidity that the men were 
often in danger of being swept away. Sometimes the banks 
advanced so close upon the river that they were obliged to 
scramble up and down their rugged promontories, or to skirt 
along their bases where there was scarce a foothold. Their 
horses had dangerous falls in some of these passes, One of them 



204 ASTORIA. 

rolled, with his load, nearly two hundred feet down hill, into 
the river, but without receiving any injury. At length they 
emerged from these stupendous defiles, and continued for sev- 
eral miles along the bank of Hoback's River, through one of 
the stern mountain valleys. Here it was joined by a river of 
greater magnitude and swifter current, and their united wa- 
ters swept off through the valley in one impetuous stream, 
which, from its rapidity and turbulence, had received the 
name of Mad River. At the confluence of these streams the 
travellers encamped. An important point in their arduous jour- 
ney had been attained, a few miles from their camp rose tho 
three vast snowy peaks called the Tetons, or the Pilot Knobs, 
the great landmarks of the Columbia, by which they had shaped 
their course through this mountain wilderness. By their feet 
flowed the rapid current of Mad River, a stream ample enough to 
admit of the navigation of canoes, and down which they might 
possibly be able to steer their course to the main body of the 
Columbia. The Canadian voyageurs rejoiced at the idea of 
once more launching themselves upon their favorite element : 
of exchanging their horses for canoes, and of gliding down the 
bosoms of rivers, instead of scrambling over the backs of 
mountains. Others of the party, also, inexperienced in this 
kind of travelling, considered their toils and troubles as draw- 
ing to a close. They had conquered the chief difficulties of 
this great rocky barrier, and now flattered themselves with 
the hope of an easy downward course for the rest of their 
journey. Little did they dream of the hardships and perils by 
land and water, which were yet to be encountered in the 
frightful wilderness that intervened between them and the 
shores of the Pacific ! 



CHAPTER XXXI. 



On the banks of Mad River Mr. Hunt held a consultation 
with the other partners as to their future movements. The 
wild and impetuous current of the river rendered him doubt- 
ful whether it might not abound with impediments lower 
down, sufficient to render the navigation of it slow and peril- 
ous, if not impracticable. The hunters who had acted as 
guides knew nothing of the character of the river below; what 
rocks, and shoals, and rapids might obstruct it, or through 



ASTORIA. 205 

what mountains and deserts it might pass. Should they then 
abandon their horses, cast themselves loose in fragile barks 
upon this wild, doubtful, and unknown river ; or should they 
continue their more toilsome and tedious, but perhaps more 
certain wayfaring by land? 

The vote, as might have been expected, was almost unani- 
mous for embarkation ; for when men are in difficulties every 
change seems to be for the better. The difficulty now was to' 
find timber of sufficient size for the construction of canoes, the 
trees of these high mountain regions being chiefly a scrubbed 
growth of pines and cedars, aspens, haws, and service-berries, 
and a small kind of cotton-tree, with a leaf resembling that of 
the willow. There was a species of large fir, but so full of 
knots as to endanger the axe in hewing it. After searching 
for some time, a growth of timber, of sufficient size, was 
found lower down the river, whereupon the encampment was 
moved to the vicinity. 

The men were now set to work to fell trees, and the moun- 
tains echoed to the unwonted sound of their axes. While pre- 
parations were thus going on for a voyage down the river, Mr, 
Hunt, who still entertained doubts of its practicability, dis- 
patched an exploring party, consisting of John Eeed, the clerk, 
John Day, the hunter, and Pierre Dorion, the interpreter, with 
orders to proceed several days' march along the stream, and 
notice its course and character. 

After their departure Mr. Hunt turned his thoughts to an- 
other object of importance. He had now arrived at the head 
waters of the Columbia, which were among the main points 
embraced by the enterprise of Mr. As tor. These upper streams 
were reputed to abound in beaver, and had as yet been unmo- 
lested by the white trapper. The numerous signs of beaver 
met with during the recent search for timber gave evidence 
that the neighborhood was a good " trapping ground." Here 
then it was proper to begin to cast loose those leashes of hardy 
trappers, that are detached from trading parties, in the very 
heart of the wilderness. The men detached in the present in- 
stance were Alexander Carson, Louis St. Michel, Pierre Detaye, 
and Pierre Delaunay. Trappers generally go in pairs, that 
they may assist, protect, and comfort each other in their lonely 
and perilous occupations. Thus Carson and St. Michel formed 
one couple, and Detaye and Delaunay another. They were 
fitted out with traps, arms, ammunition, horses, and every 
other requisite, and were to trap upon the upper part of Mad 



206 ASTORIA. 

River, and upon the neighboring streams of the mountains. 
This would probably occupy them for some months; and, 
when they should have collected a sufficient quantity of pel- 
tries, they were to pack them upon their horses and make the 
best of their way to the mouth of Columbia River, or to any 
intermediate post which might be established by the company. 
They took leave of their comrades and started off on their 
several courses with stout hearts and cheerful countenances ; 
though these lonely cruisings into a wild and hostile wilder- 
ness seem to the uninitiated equivalent to being cast adrift in 
the ship's yawl in the midst of the ocean. 

Of the perils that attend the lonely trapper, the reader will 
have sufficient proof, when he comes, in the after part of this 
work, to learn the hard fortunes of these poor fellows in the 
course of their wild peregrinations. 

The trappers had not long departed when two Snake Indians 
wandered into the camp. When they perceived that the 
strangers were fabricating canoes, they shook their heads and 
gave them to understand that the river was not navigable. 
Their information, however, was scoffed at by some of the 
party, who were obstinately bent on embarkation, but was 
confirmed by the exploring party, who returned after several 
days' absence. They had kept along the river with great diffi- 
culty for two days, and found it a narrow, crooked, turbulent 
stream, confined in a rocky channel, with many rapids, and 
occasionally overhung with precipices. From the summit of 
one of these they had caught a bird's-eye view of its boisterous 
career, for a great distance, through the heart of the mountain, 
with impending rocks and cliff s. Satisfied from this view that 
it was useless to follow its course either by land or water, they 
had given up all further investigation. 

These concurring reports determined Mr. Hunt to abandon 
Mad River, and seek some more navigable stream. This de- 
termination was concurred in by all his associates excepting 
Mr. Miller, who had become impatient of the fatigue of land 
travel, and was for immediate embarkation at all hazards. 
This gentleman had been in a gloomy and irritated state of 
mind for some time past, being troubled with a bodily malady 
that rendered travelling on horseback extremely irksome to 
him, and being, moreover, discontented with having a smaller 
share in the expedition than his comrades. His unreasonable 
objections to a further march by land were overruled, and the 
party prepared to decamp. 



ASTORIA. 207 

Robinson, Hoback, and Rezner, the three nimters wno had 
hitherto served as guides among the mountains, now stepped 
forward, and advised Mr. Hunt to make for the post estab- 
lished during the preceding year by Mr, Henry, of the Missouri 
Fur Company. They had been with Mr. Henry, and as far as 
they could judge by the neighboring landmarks, his post could 
not be very far off. They presumed there could be but one 
intervening ridge of mountains, which might be passed with- 
out any great difficulty. Henry's post, or fort, was on an 
upper branch of the Columbia, down which they made no 
doubt it would be easy to navigate in canoes. 

The two Snake Indians being questioned in the matter, showed 
a perfect knowledge of the situation of the post, and offered, 
with great alacrity, to guide them to the place. Their offer 
was accepted, greatly to the displeasure of Mr. Miller, who 
seemed obstinately bent upon braving the perils of Mad River. 

The weather for a few days past had been stormy, with rain 
and sleet. The Rocky Mountains are subject to tempestuous 
winds from the west ; these, sometimes, come in flaws or cur- 
rents, making a path through the forests many yards in width, 
and whirling off trunks and branches to a great distance. The 
present storm subsided on the third of October, leaving all the 
surrounding heights covered with snow ; for while rain had 
fallen in the valley, it had snowed on the hill tops. 

On the 4th they broke up their encampment and crossed the 
river, the water coming up to the girths of their horses. After 
travelling four miles, they encamped at the foot of the moun- 
tain, the last, as they hoped, which they should have to traverse. 
Fonr days more took them across it, and over several plains, 
watered by beautiful little streams, tributaries of Mad River. 
Near one of their encampments there was a hot spring contin- 
ually emitting a cloud of vapor. These elevated plains, which 
give a peculiar character to the mountains, are frequented by 
large gangs of antelopes, fleet as the wind. 

On the evening of the 8th of October, after a cold wintry day, 
with gusts of westerly wind and flurries of snow, they arrived 
at the sought-for post of Mr. Henry. Here he had fixed him- 
self, after being compelled by the hostilities of the Blackf eet to 
abandon the upper waters of the Missouri. The post, however, 
was deserted, for Mr. Henry had left it, in the course of the 
preceding spring, and, as it afterward appeared, had fallen in 
with Mr. Lisa, at the Arickara village on the Missouri, some 
time after the separation of Mr. Hunt and his party. 



208 ASTORIA. 

The weary travellers gladly took possession of the deserted 
log huts which had formed the post, and which stood on the 
bank of a stream upward of a hundred yards wide, on winch 
they intended to embark. There being plenty of suitable tim- 
ber in the neighborhood, Mr. Hunt immediately proceeded to 
construct canoes. As he would have to leave his horses and 
their accoutrements here, he determined to make this a trad- 
ing post, where the trappers and hunters, to be distributed 
about the country, might repair; and where the traders might 
touch on their way through the mountains to and from the 
establishment at the mouth of the Columbia. He informed 
the two Snake Indians of this determination, and engaged 
them to remain in that neighborhood and take care of the 
horses until the white men should return, promising thenr 
ample rewards for their fidelity. It may seem a desperate 
chance to trust to the faith and honesty of two such vaga- 
bonds; but, as the horses w^ould have, at all events, to be 
abandoned, and would otherwise become the property of the 
first vagrant horde that should encounter them, it was one 
chance in favor of their being regained. 

At this place another detachment of hunters prepared to 
separate from the party for the purpose of trapping beaver. 
Three of these had already been in this neighborhood, being 
the veteran Eobinson and his companions, Hoback and Rez- 
ner, who had accompanied Mr. Henry across the mountains, 
and who had been picked up by Mr. Hunt on the Missouri, on 
their way home to Kentucky. According to agreement they 
were fitted out with horses, traps, ammunition, and every- 
thing requisite for their undertaking, and were to bring in all 
the peltries they should collect, either to this trading post or to 
the establishment at the mouth of Columbia River. Another 
hunter, of the name of Cass, was associated with them in 
their enterprise. It is in this way that small knots of trappers 
and hunters are distributed about the wilderness by the fur 
companies, and, like cranes and bitterns, haunt its solitary 
streams. Robinson, the Kentuckian, the veteran of the 
" bloody ground," who, as has already been noted, had been 
scalped by the Indians in his younger days, was the leader of 
this little band. When they were about to depart, Mr. Miller 
called the partners together, and threw up his share in the 
company, declaring his intention of joining the party of 
trappers. 
This resolution struck every one with astonishment. Mr 



ASTORIA. 209 

Miller being a man of education and of cultivated habits, and 
little fitted for the rude life of a hunter. Besides, the pre- 
carious and slender profits arising from such a life were 
beneath the prospects of one who held a share in the general 
enterprise. Mr. Hunt was especially concerned and mortified 
at his determination, as it was through his advice and influence 
he had entered into the concern. He endeavored, therefore, 
to dissuade him from this sudden resolution ; representing its 
rashness, and the hardships and perils to which it would ex- 
pose him. He earnestly advised him, however he might feel 
dissatisfied with the enterprise, still to continue on in com- 
pany until they should reach the mouth of Columbia River. 
There they would meet the expedition that was to come by 
sea ; when, should he still feel disposed to relinquish the under- 
taking, Mr. Hunt pledged himself to furnish him a passage 
home in one of the vessels belonging to the company. 

To all this Miller replied abruptly, that it was useless to 
argue with him, as his mind was made up. They might fur- 
nish him, or not, as they pleased, with the necessary supplies, 
but he was determined to part company here, and set off with 
the trappers. So saying, he flung out of their presence with- 
out vouchsafing any further conversation. 

Much as this wayward conduct gave them anxiety, the 
partners saw it was in vain to remonstrate. Every attention 
was paid to fit him out for his headstrong undertaking. He 
was provided with four horses and all the articles he required. 
The two Snakes undertook to conduct him and his companions 
to an encampment of their tribe, lower down among the moun- 
tains, from whom they would receive information as to the 
best trapping grounds. After thus guiding them, the Snakes 
were to return to Fort Henry, as the new trading post was 
called, and take charge of the horses which the party would 
leave there, of which, after all the hunters were supplied, 
there remained seventy - seven. These matters being all 
arranged, Mr. Miller set out with his companions, under 
guidance of the two Snakes, on the 10th of October ; and much 
did it grieve the friends of that gentleman to see him thus 
wantonly casting himself loose upon savage life. How he and 
his comrades fared in the wilderness, and how the Snakes 
acquitted themselves of their trust respecting the horses, will 
hereafter appear in the course of these rambling anecdotes. 



210 ASTORIA. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

While the canoes were in preparation, the hunters ranged 
about the neighborhood, but with little success. Tracks of 
buffaloes were to be seen in all directions, but none of a fresh 
date. There were some elk, but extremely wild; two only 
were killed. Antelopes were likewise seen, but too shy and 
fleet to be approached. A few beavers were taken every night, 
and salmon trout of a small size, so that the camp had princi- 
pally to subsist upon dried buffalo meat. 

On the 14th, a poor, half -naked Snake Indian, one of that 
forlorn caste called the Shuckers, or Diggers, made his appear- 
ance at the camp. He came from some lurking-place among 
the rocks and cliffs, and presented a picture of that famishing 
wretchedness to which these lonely fugitives among the moun- 
tains are sometimes reduced. Having received wherewithal 
to allay his hunger, he disappeared, but in the course of a day 
or two returned to the camp, bringing with him his son, a 
miserable boy, still more naked and forlorn than himself. 
Food was given to both ; they skulked about the camp like 
hungry hounds, seeking what they might devour, and having 
gathered up the feet and entrails of some beavers that were 
lying about, slunk off with them to their den among the rocks. 

By the 18th of October fifteen canoes were completed, and 
on the following day the party embarked with their effects, 
leaving their horses grazing about the banks, and trusting to 
the honesty of the two Snakes, and some special turn of good 
luck for their future recovery. 

The current bore them along at a rapid rate ; the light spirits 
of the Canadian voyageurs, which had occasionally flagged 
upon land, rose to their accustomed buoyancy on finding 
themselves again upon the water. They wielded their paddles 
with their wonted dexterity, and for the first time made the 
mountains echo with their favorite boat songs. 

In the course of the day the little squadron arrived at the 
confluence of Henry and Mad Rivers, which thus united, 
swelled into a beautiful stream of a light pea-green color, 
navigable for boats of any size, and which from the place ot 
junction, took the name of Snake River, a stream doomed to 



ASTORIA. 211 

be the scene of much disaster to the travellers. The banks were 
here and there fringed with willow thickets and small cotton- 
wood trees. The weather was cold, and it snowed all day, and 
great flocks of ducks and geese, sporting in the water or 
streaming through the air, gave token that winter was at 
hand; yet the hearts of the travellers were light, and, as they 
glided down the little river, they flattered themselves with the 
hope of soon reaching the Columbia. After making thirty 
miles in a southerly direction, they encamped for the night in 
a neighborhood which required some little vigilance, as there 
were recent traces of grizzly bears among the thickets. 

On the following day the river increased in width and 
beauty, flowing parallel to a range of mountains on the left, 
which at times were finely reflected in its light green waters. 
The three snowy summits of the Pilot Knobs or Tetons were 
still seen towering in the distance. After pursuing a swift but 
placid course for twenty miles, the current began to foam and 
brawl, and assume the wild and broken character common to 
the streams west of the Eocky Mountains. In fact the rivers 
which flow from those mountains to the Pacific are essentially 
different from those which traverse the great prairies on their 
eastern declivities. The latter, though sometimes boisterous, 
are generally free from obstructions, and easily navigated ; but 
the rivers to the west of the mountains descend more steeply 
and impetuously, and are continually liable to cascades and 
rapids. The laxter abounded in the part of the river which the 
travellers were now descending. Two of the canoes filled 
among the breakers ; the crews were saved, but much of the 
lading was lost or damaged, and one of the canoes drifted 
down the stream and was broken among the rocks. 

On the following day, October 21st, they made but a short 
distance when they came to a dangerous strait, where the river 
was compressed for nearly half a mile between perpendicular 
rocks, reducing it to the width of twenty yards, and increasing 
its violence. Here they were obliged to pass the canoes down 
cautiously by a line from the impending banks. This con- 
sumed a great part of a day ; and after they had re-embarked 
they were soon again impeded by rapids, when they had to 
unload their canoes and carry them and their cargoes for some 
distance by land. It is at these places, called " portages," 
that the Canadian voyageur exhibits his most valuable quali- 
ties, carrying heavy burdens, and toiling to and fro, on land 
and in the water, over rocks and precipices, among brakes and 



212 ASTORIA. 

brambles, not only without a murmur, but with the greatest 
cheerfulness and alacrity, joking and laughing and singing 
scraps of old French ditties. 

The spirits of the party, however, which had been elated on 
first varying their journeying from land to water, had now 
lost some of their buoyancy. Everything ahead was wrapped 
in uncertainty. They knew nothing of the river on which 
they were floating. It had never been navigated by a white 
man, nor could they meet with an Indian to give them any in- 
formation concerning it. It kept on its course through a vast 
wilderness of silent and apparently uninhabited mountains, 
without a savage wigwam upon its banks, or bark upon its 
waters. The difficulties and perils they had olready passed 
made them apprehend others before them that might effectu- 
ally bar their progress. As they glided onward, however, 
they regained heart and hope. The current continued to be 
strong; but it was steady, and though they met with frequent 
rapids, none of them were bad. Mountains were constantly to 
be seen in different directions, but sometimes the swift river 
glided through prairies, and was bordered by small cotton- 
wood trees and willows. These prairies at certain seasons are 
ranged by migratory herds of the wide- wandering buffalo, the 
tracks of which, though not of recent date, were frequently to 
be seen. Here, too, were to be found the prickly pear, or In- 
dian fig, a plant which loves a more southern climate. On the 
land were large flights of magpies and American robins ; whole 
fleets of ducks and geese navigated the river, or flew off in 
long streaming files at the approach of the canoes ; while the 
frequent establishments of the painstaking and quiet-loving 
beaver showed that the solitude of these waters was rarely dis- 
turbed, even by the all-pervading savage. 

They had now come near two hundred and eighty miles 
since leaving Fort Henry, yet without seeing a human being 
or a human habitation ; a wild and desert solitude extended 
on either side of the river, apparently almost destitute of ani- 
mal lif e. At length, on the 24th of October, they were glad- 
dened by the sight of some savage tents, and hastened to land 
and visit them, for they were anxious to procure information 
to guide them on their route. On their approach, however, 
the savages fled in consternation. They proved to be a wan- 
dering band of Shoshonies. In their tents were great quan- 
tities of small fish about two inches long, together with roots' 
and seeds, or grain, which they were drying for winter pro- 



ASTORIA. 213 

visions. They appeared to be destitute of tools of any kind, 
yet mere were bows and arrows very well made; the former 
were formed of pine, cedar, or bone, strengthened by sinews, 
and tne latter of the wood of rose-bushes, and other crooked 
plants, but carefully straightened, and tipped with stone of a 
bottle-green color. 

There were also vessels of willow and grass, so closely 
wrought as to hold water, and a seine neatly made with 
meshes, in the ordinary manner, of the fibres of wild flax or 
nettle. The humble effects of the poor savages remained un ■ 
molested by their visitors, and a few small articles, with 
a knife or two, were left in the camp, and were no doubt re- 
garded as invaluable prizes* 

Shortly after leaving this deserted camp, and re embarking 
in the canoes, the travellers met with three of the Snakes on a 
triangular raft made of flags or reeds ; such was their rude 
mode of navigating the river. They were entirely naked ex- 
cepting small mantles of hare skins over their shoulders. The 
canoes approached near enough to gain a full view of them, 
but they were not to be brought to a parley. 

All further progress for the day was barred by a fall in the 
river of about thirty feet perpendicular ; at the head of which 
the party encamped for the night. 

The next day was one of excessive toil and but little prog- 
ress, the river winding through a wild rocky country, and 
being interrupted by frequent rapids, among which the canoes 
were in great peril. On the succeeding day they again visited 
a camp of wandering Snakes, but the inhabitants fled with 
terror at the sight of a fleet of canoes, filled with white men, 
coming down their solitary river. 

As Mr. Hunt was extremely anxious to gain information 
concerning his route, he endeavored by all kinds of friendly 
signs to entice back the fugitives. At length one, who was on 
horseback, ventured back with fear and trembling. He was 
better clad and in better condition than most of his vagrant 
tribe that Mr. Hunt had yet seen. The chief object of his 
return appeared to be to intercede for a quantity of dried 
meat and salmon trout, which he had left behind ; on which, 
probably, he depended for his winter's subsistence. The poor 
wretch approached with hesitation, the alternate dread of 
famine and of white men operating upon his mind. He made 
the most abject signs imploring Mr. Hunt not to carry off his 
food. The latter tried in every way to reassure him, and 



214 ASTORIA. 

offered him knives in exchange for his provisions; great as 
was the temptation, the poor Snake could only prevail upon 
himself to spare a part, keeping a feverish watch over the rest, 
lest it should be taken away. It was in vain Mr. Hunt made 
inquiries of him concerning his route, and the course of the 
river. The Indian was too much frightened and bewildered to 
comprehend him or to reply; he did nothing but alternately 
commend himself to the protection of the Good Spirit, and 
supplicate Mr. Hunt not to take away his fish and buffalo 
meat; and in this state they left him, trembling about his 
treasures. 

In the course of that and the next day they made nearly 
eight miles, the river inclining to the south of west, and being 
clear and beautiful, nearly half a mile in width with many 
populous communities of the beaver along its banks. The 28th 
of October, however, was a day of disaster. The river again 
became rough and impetuous, and was chafed and broken by 
numerous rapids. These grew more and more dangerous, and 
the utmost skill was required to steer among them. Mr. 
Crooks was seated in the second canoe of the squadron, and 
had an old experienced Canadian for steersman, named 
Antoine Clappine, one of the most valuable of the voyageurs. 
The leading canoe had glided safely among the turbulent and 
roaring surges, but in following it Mr. Crooks perceived that 
his canoe was bearing toward a rock. He called out to the 
steersman, but his warning voice was either unheard or un- 
heeded. In the next moment they struck upon the rock. The 
canoe was split and overturned. There were five persons on 
board. Mr. Crooks and one of his companions were thrown 
amid roaring breakers and a whirling current, but succeeded, 
by strong swimming, to reach the shore. Clappine and two 
others clung to the shattered bark, and drifted with it to a 
rock. The wreck struck the rock with one end, and swinging 
round, flung poor Clappine off into the raging stream, which 
swept him away, and he perished. His comrades succeeded 
in getting upon the rock, from whence they were afterward 
taken off. 

This disastrous event brought the whole squadron to a halt, 
and struck a chill into every bosom. Indeed, they had arrived 
at a terrific strait, that forbade all further progress in the 
canoes, and dismayed the most experienced voyageur. The 
whole body of the river was compressed into a space of 
less than thirtv feet in width, between two ledges of rocks, 



ASTOBIA. 215 

upward of two hundred feet high, and formed a whirling and 
tumultuous vortex, so frightfully agitated as to receive the 
name of " The Caldron Linn." Beyond this fearful abyss the 
river kept raging and roaring on, until lost to sight among 
impending precipices. 



CHAPTER 

Mr. Hunt and his companions encamped upon the borders 
of the Caldron Linn, and held gloomy counsel as to their future 
course. The recent wreck had dismayed even the voyageurs, 
and the fate of their popular comrade, Clappine, one of the 
most adroit and experienced of their fraternity, had struck 
sorrow to their hearts, for, with all their levity, these thought- 
less beings have great kindness toward each other. 

The whole distance they had navigated since leaving Henry's 
Fort was computed to be about three hundred and forty miles ; 
strong apprehensions were now entertained that the tremen- 
dous impediments before them would oblige them to abandon 
their canoes. It was determined to send exploring parties on 
each side of the river to ascertain whether it was possible to 
navigate it further. Accordingly, on the following morning 
three men were dispatched along the south bank, while Mr. 
Hunt and three others proceeded along the north. The two 
parties returned after a weary scramble among swamps, rocks, 
and precipices, and with very disheartening accounts. For 
nearly forty miles that they had explored, the river foamed 
and roared along through a deep and narrow channel, from 
twenty to thirty yards wide, which it had worn, in the course 
of ages, through the heart of a barren, rocky country. The 
precipices on each side were often two and three hundred feet 
high, sometimes perpendicular, and sometimes overhanging, 
so that it was impossible, excepting in one or two places, to get 
down to the margin of the stream. This dreary strait was 
rendered the more dangerous by frequent rapids, and occasion- 
ally perpendicular falls from ten to forty feet in height ; so 
that it seemed almost hopeless to attempt to pass the canoes 
down it. The party, however, who had explored the south 
side of the river, had found a place, about six miles from the 
camp, where they thought it possible the canoes might be 



216 ASTORIA, 

carried down the bank and launched upon the stream, and 
from whence they might make their way with the aid of occa- 
sional portages. Four of the best canoes were accordingly 
selected for the experiment, and were transported to the place 
on the shoulders of sixteen of the men. At the same time 
Mr. Reed, the clerk, and three men were detached to explore 
the river still further down than the previous scouting parties 
had been, and at the same time to look out for Indians, from 
whom provisions might be obtained, and a supply of horses, 
should it be found necessary to Proceed by land. 

The party who had been sei i with the canoes returned on 
the following day, weary and dejected. One of the canoes 
had been swept away with all the weapons and effects of four 
of the yoyageurs, in attempting to pass it down a rapid by 
means of a line. The other three had stuck fast among the 
rocks, so that it was impossible to move them ; the men re- 
turned, therefore, in despair, and declared the river unnaviga- 
ble. 

The situation of the unfortunate travellers was now gloomy 
in the extreme. They were in the heart of an unknown wilder- 
ness, untraversed as yet by a white man. They were at a loss 
what route to take, and how far they were from the ultimate 
place of their destination, nor could they meet, in these unin- 
habited wilds, with any human being to give them informa- 
tion. The repeated accidents to their canoes had reduced their 
stock of provisions to five days' allowance, and there was now 
every appearance of soon having famine added to their other 
sufferings. 

This last circumstance rendered it more perilous to keep 
together than to separate. Accordingly, after a little anxious 
but bewildered counsel, it was determined that several small 
detachments should start off in different directions, headed by 
the several partners. Should any of them succeed in falling in 
with friendly Indians, within a reasonable distance, and ob- 
taining a supply of provisions and horses, they were to return 
to the aid of the main body ; otherwise, they were to shift for 
themselves, and shape their course according to circumstances, 
keeping the mouth of the Columbia River as the ultimate point 
of their wayfaring. Accordingly, three several parties set off 
from the camp at Caldron Linn, in opposite directions. Mr. 
M'Lellan, with three men, kept down along the bank of the 
river. Mr. Crooks, with five others, turned their steps up it, 
retracing by land the weary course they had made by water, 



ASTORIA. 217 

intending, should they not find relief nearer at hand, to keep 
on until they should reach Henry's Fort, where they hoped to 
find the horses they had left there, and to return with them to 
the main body. 

The third party, composed of five men, was headed by Mr. 
M'Kenzie, who struck to the northward, across the desert 
plains, in hopes of coming upon the main stream of the Co- 
lumbia. 

Having seen these three adventurous bands depart upon 
their forlorn expeditions, Mr. Hunt turned his thoughts to pro- 
vide for the subsistence of the main body, left to his charge, 
and to prepare for their future march. There remained with 
him thirty-one men, besides the squaw and two children of 
Pierre Dorion. There was no game to be met with in the 
neighborhood ; but beavers were occasionally trapped about the 
river banks, which afforded a scanty supply of food; in the 
mean time they comforted themselves that some one or other 
of the foraging detachments would be successful, and return 
with relief. 

Mr. Hunt now set to work with all diligence, to prepare 
caches in which to deposit the baggage and merchandise, of 
which it would be necessary to disburden themselves, prepara- 
tory to their weary march by land ; and here we shall give a 
brief description of those contrivances, so noted in the wil- 
derness. 

A cache is a term, common among traders and hunters, to 
designate a hiding-place for provisions and effects. It is de- 
rived from the French word cacher, to conceal, and originated 
among the early colonists of Canada and Louisiana ; but the 
secret depository which it designates was in use among the 
aboriginals long before the intrusion of the white men. It is, 
in fact, the only mode that migratory hordes have of preserv- 
ing their valuables from robbery, during their long absences 
from their villages or accustomed haunts, or hunting expedi- 
tions, or during the vicissitudes of war. The utmost skill and 
caution are required to render these places of concealment in- 
visible to the lynx eye of an Indian. The first care is to seek 
out a proper situation, which is generally some dry low bank 
of clay, on the margin of a water-course. As soon as the pre- 
cise spot is pitched upon, blankets, saddle-cloths, and other 
coverings are spread over the surrounding grass and bushes, 
to prevent foot tracks, or any other derangement ; and as few 
hands as possible are employed. A circle of about two feet in 



218 ASTORIA. 

diameter is then nicely cut in the sod, which is carefully re 
moved, with the loose soil immediately beneath it, and laid 
aside in a place where it will be safe from anything that may 
change its appearance. The uncovered area is then digged 
perpendicularly to the depth of about three feet, and is then 
gradually widened so as to form a conical chamber, six or seven 
feet deep. The whole of the earth displaced by thh process, 
being of a different color from that on the surface, is handed 
up in a vessel, and heaped into a skin or cloth, in which it is 
conveyed to the stream and thrown into the midst of the cur- 
rent that it may be entirely carried off. Should the cache not 
be formed in the vicinity of a stream, the earth thus thrown 
up is carried to a distance, and scattered in such manner as not 
to leave the minutest trace. The cave, being formed, is well 
lined with dry grass, bark, sticks, and poles, and occasionally 
a dried hide. The property intended to be hidden is then laid 
in, after having been well aired ; a hide is spread over it, and 
dried grass, brush, and stones thrown in, and trampled down 
until the pit is filled to the neck. The loose soil which had 
been put aside is then brought, and rammed down firmly, to 
prevent its caving in, and is frequently sprinkled with water, 
to destroy the scent, lest the wolves and bears should be at- 
tracted to the place, and root up the concealed treasure. When 
the neck of the cache is nearly level with the surrounding sur- 
face, the sod is again fitted in with the utmost exactness, and 
any bushes, stocks, or stones, that may have originally been 
about the spot, are restored to their former places. The blank- 
ets and other coverings are then removed from the surrounding 
herbage; all tracks are obliterated; the grass is gently raised 
by the hand to its natural position, and the minutest chip or 
straw is scrupulously gleaned up and thrown into the stream. 
After all is done, the place is abandoned for the night, and, if 
all be right next morning, is not visited again, until there be a 
necessity for reopening the cache. Four men are sufficient, in 
this way, to conceal the amount of three tons' weight of mer- 
chandise in the course of two days. Nine caches were required 
to contain the goods and baggage which Mr. Hunt found it 
necessary to leave at this place. 

Three days had been thus employed since the departure of 
the several detachments, when that of Mr. Crooks unexpect- 
edly made f$s appearance. A momentary joy was diffused 
through the camp, for they supposed succor to be at hand. Tt 
was soon dispelled. Mr. Crooks and his companions had be 



ASTORIA. 219 

come completely disheartened by this retrograde march through 
a bleak and barren country ; and had found, computing from 
their progress and the accumulating difficulties besetting every 
step, that it would be impossible to reach Henry's Fort and re- 
turn to the main body in the course of the winter. They had 
determined, therefore, to rejoin their comrades, and share their 
lot. 

One avenue of hope was thus closed upon the anxious so- 
journers at the Caldron Linn ; their main expectation of re- 
lief was now from the two parties under Reed and M'Lellan, 
which had proceeded down the river, for, as to Mr. M'Kenzie's 
detachment, which had struck across the plains, they thought 
it would have sufficient difficulty in struggling forward through 
the trackless wilderness. For five days they continued to sup- 
port themselves by trapping and fishing. Some fish of tolera- 
ble size were speared at night by the light of cedar torches; 
others, that were very small, were caught in nets with fine 
meshes. The product of their fishing, however, was very 
scanty. Their trapping was also precarious, and the tails and 
bellies of the beavers were dried and put by for the journey. 

At length two of the companions of Mr. Reed returned, and 
were hailed with the most anxious eagerness. Their report 
served but to increase the general despondency. They had 
followed Mr. Reed for some distance below the point to which 
Mr. Hunt had explored, but had met with no Indians, from 
whom to obtain information and relief. The river still pre- 
sented the same furious aspect, brawling and boiling along a 
narrow and rugged channel, between rocks that rose like 
walls. 

A lingering hope, which had been indulged by some of the 
party, of proceeding by water, was now finally given up : the 
long and terrific strait of the river set all further progress at 
defiance, and in their disgust at the place, and their vexation 
at the disasters sustained there, they gave it the indignant 
though not very decorous appellation of the Devil's Scuttle 
Hole. 



220 ASTORIA. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

The resolution of Mr. Hunt and his companions was now 
taken to set out immediately on foot. As to the other detach 
ments that had in a manner gone forth to seek their fortunes, 
there was little chance of their return ; they would probably 
make their own way through the wilderness. At any rate, to 
linger in the vague hope of relief from them would be to run 
the risk of perishing with hunger. Besides, the winter was 
rapidly advancing, and they had a long journey to make 
through an unknown country, where all kinds of perils might 
await them. They were yet, in fact, a thousand miles from 
Astoria, but the distance was unknown to them at the time ; 
everything before and around them was vague and conjectural, 
and wore an aspect calculated to inspire despondency. 

In abandoning the river they would have to launch forth 
upon vast trackless plains, destitute of all means of sub- 
sistence, where they might perish of hunger and thirst. A 
dreary desert of sand and gravel extends from Snake River 
almost to the Columbia. Here and there is a thin and scanty 
herbage, insufficient for the pasture of horse or buffalo. In- 
deed these treeless wastes between the Rocky Mountains and 
the Pacific are even more desolate and barren than the naked, 
upper prairies on the Atlantic side ; they present vast desert 
tracts that must ever defy cultivation, and interpose dreary 
and thirsty wilds between^ the habitations of man, in travers- 
ing which the wanderer will often be in danger of perishing. 

Seeing the hopeless character of these wastes, Mr. Hunt and 
his companions determined to keep along the course of the 
river, where they would always have water at hand, and 
would be able occasionally to procure fish and beaver, and 
might perchance meet with Indians, from whom they could 
obtain provisions. 

They now made their final preparations for the march. All 
their remaining stock of provisions consisted of forty pounds 
of Indian corn, twenty pounds of grease, about five pounds of 
portable soup, and a sufficient quantity of dried meat to allow 
each man a pittance of five pounds and a quarter, to be re- 
served for emergencies. This being properly distributed, they 



ASTORIA. 321 

deposited all their goods and superfluous articles in the caches, 
taking nothing with them but what was indispensable to the 
journey. With all their management, each man had to carry- 
twenty pounds' weight beside his own articles and equipments. 

That they might have the better chance of procuring sub- 
sistence in the scanty regions they were to traverse, they 
divided their party into two bands, Mr. Hunt, with eighteen 
men, besides Pierre Dorion and his family, was to proceed 
down the north side of the river, while Mr. Crooks, with 
eighteen men, kept along the south side. 

On the morning of the 9th of October, the two parties sepa- 
rated and set forth on their several courses. Mr. Hunt and his 
companions followed along the right bank of the river, which 
made its way far below them, brawling at the foot of perpen- 
dicular precipices of solid rock, two and three hundred feet 
high. For twenty-eight miles that they travelled this day, 
they found it impossible to get down to the margin of the 
stream. At the end of this distance they encamped for the 
night at a place which admitted a scrambling descent. It 
was with the greatest difficulty, however, they succeeded in 
getting up a kettle of water from the river for the use of the 
camp. As some rain had fallen in the afternoon, they passed 
the night under the shelter of the rocks. 

The next day they continued thirty-two miles to the north- 
west, keeping along the river, which still ran in its deep cut 
channel. Here and there a sandy beach or a narrow strip of 
soil fringed with dwarf willows would extend for a little dis- 
tance along the foot of the cliffs, and sometimes a reach of still 
water would intervene like a smooth mirror between the foam- 
ing rapids. 

As through the preceding day, they journeyed on without 
finding, except in one instance, any place where they could 
get down to the river's edge, and they were fain to allay the 
thirst caused by hard travelling, with the water collected in 
the hollow of the rocks. 

In the course of their march on the following morning they 
fell into a beaten horse path leading along the river, which 
showed that they were in the neighborhood of some Indian 
village or encampment. They had not proceeded far along it, 
when they met with two Shoshonies or Snakes. They ap- 
proached with some appearance of uneasiness, and accosting 
Mr. Hunt, held up a knife, which by signs they let him know 
they had received from some of the white men of the advance 



222 ASTORIA. 

parties. It was with some difficulty that Mr. Hunt prevailed 
upon one of the savages to conduct him to the lodges of his 
people. Striking into a trail or path which led up from the 
river, he guided them for some distance in the prairie, until 
they came in sight of a number of lodges made of straw, and 
shaped like haystacks. Their approach, as on former occa- 
sions, caused the wildest affright among the inhabitants. The 
women hid such of their children as were too large to be car- 
ried, and too small to take care of themselves, under straw, 
and, clasping their infants to their breasts, fled across the prai- 
rie. The men awaited the approach of these strangers, but 
evidently in great alarm. 

Mr. Hunt entered the lodges, and, as he was looking about, 
observed where the children were concealed, their black eyes 
glistening like those of snakes from beneath the straw. He 
lifted up the covering to look at them ; the poor little beings 
were horribly frightened, and their fathers stood trembling as 
if a beast of prey were about to pounce upon the brood. 

The friendly manner of Mr. Hunt soon dispelled these appre- 
hensions; he succeeded in purchasing some excellent dried 
salmon, and a dog, an animal much esteemed as food by the 
natives ; and when he returned to the river one of the Indians 
accompanied him. He now came to where lodges were fre- 
quent along the banks, and, after a day's journey of twenty- 
six miles to the northwest, encamped in a populous neighbor- 
hood. Forty or fifty of the natives soon visited the camp, 
conducting themselves in a very amicable manner. They were 
well clad, and all had buffalo robes, which they procured from 
some of the hunting tribes in exchange for salmon. Their 
habitations were very comfortable ; each had its pile of worm- 
wood at the door for fuel, and within was abundance of salmon, 
some fresh, but the greater part cured. When the white men 
visited the lodges, however, the women and children hid them- 
selves through fear. Among the supplies obtained here were 
two dogs, on which our travellers breakfasted, and found them 
to be very excellent, well flavored, and hearty food. 

In the course of the three following days they made about 
sixty-three miles, generally in a northwest direction. They met 
with many of the natives in their straw-built cabins who re 
ceived them without alarm. About their dwellings were im- 
mense quantities of the heads and skins of salmon, the best 
part of which had been cured and hidden in the ground. The 
women were badly clad, the children worse ; their garments 



ASTORIA. 223 

were buffalo robes, or the skins of foxes, welves, hares, and 
badgers, and sometimes the skins of ducks, sewed together 
with the plumage on. Most of the skins must have been pro- 
cured by traffic with other tribes, or in distant hunting excur- 
sions, for the naked prairies in the neighborhood afforded few 
animals, excepting horses, which were abundant. There were 
signs of buffaloes having been there, but a long time before. 

On the 15th of November they made twenty-eight miles along 
the river, which was entirely free from rapids. The shores 
were lined with dead salmon, which tainted the whole atmos- 
phere. The natives whom they met spoke of Mr. Reed's party 
having passed through that neighborhood. In the course of 
the day Mr. Hunt saw a few horses, but the owners of them 
took care to hurry them out of the way. All the provisions 
they were able to procure were two dogs and a salmon. On 
the following day they were still worse off, having to subsist 
on parched corn and the remains of their dried meat. The 
river this day had resumed its turbulent character, forcing its 
way through a narrow channel between steep rocks, and down 
violent rapids. They made twenty miles over a rugged road, 
gradually approaching a mountain in the northwest, covered 
with snow, which had been in sight for three days past. 

On the 17th they met with several Indians, one of whom had 
a horse. Mr. Hunt was extremely desirous of obtaining it as a 
pack-horse; for the men, worn down by fatigue and hunger, 
found the loads of twenty pounds' weight which they had to 
carry, daily growing heavier and more galling. The Indians, 
however, along this river, were never willing to part with their 
horses, having none to spare. The owner of the steed in ques- 
tion seemed proof against all temptation ; article after article 
of great value in Indian eyes was offered and refused. The 
charms of an old tin-kettle, however, were irresistible, and a 
bargain was concluded. 

A great part of the following morning was consumed in 
lightening the packages of the men and arranging the load for 
the horse. At thiS encampment there was no wood for fuel, 
even the wormwood on which they had frequently depended 
having disappeared. For the two last days they had made 
thirty miles to the northwest. 

On the 19th of November Mr. Hunt was lucky enough to 
purchase another horse for his own use; giving in exchange a 
tomahawk, a knife, a fire steel, and some beads and gartering. 
In an evil hour, however, he took the advice of the Indians to 



224 ASTORIA. 

abandon the river, and follow a road or trail leading into the 
prairies. He soon had cause to repent the change. The road 
led across a dreary waste without verdure ; and where there 
was neither fountain, nor pool, nor running stream. The men 
now began to experience the torments of thirst, aggravated by 
their usual diet of dried fish. The thirst of the Canadian 
voyageurs became so insupportable as to drive them to the 
most revolting means of allaying it. For twenty-five miles 
did they toil on across this dismal desert, and laid themselves 
down at night, parched and disconsolate, beside their worm- 
wood fires ; looking forward to still greater sufferings on the 
following day. Fortunately, it began to rain in the night, to 
their infinite relief; the water soon collected in puddles and 
afforded them delicious draughts. 

Refreshed in this manner, they resumed their wayfaring as 
soon as the first streaks of dawn gave light enough for them to 
see their path. The rain continued all day, so that they no 
longer suffered from thirst, but hunger took its place, for after 
travelling thirty-three miles they had nothing to sup on but a 
little parched corn. 

The next day brought them to the banks of a beautiful little 
stream, running to the west, and fringed with groves of cotton- 
wood and willow. On its borders was an Indian camp, with a 
great many horses grazing around it. The inhabitants, too, 
appeared to be better clad than usual. The scene was alto- 
gether a cheering one to the poor half -famished wanderers. 
They hastened to the lodges, but on arriving at them, met with 
a check that at first dampened their cheerfulness. An Indian 
immediately laid claim to the horse of Mr. Hunt, saying that 
it had been stolen from him. There was no disproving a fact 
supported by numerous bystanders, and which the horse-steal- 
ing habits of the Indians rendered but too probable; so Mr. 
Hunt relinquished his steed to the claimant ; not being able to 
retain him by a second purchase. 

At this place they encamped for the night, and made a 
sumptuous repast upon fish and a couple ^of dogs, procured 
from their Indian neighbors. The next day they kept along 
the river, but came to a halt after ten miles' march, on account 
of the rain. Here they again got a supply of fish and dogs 
from the natives ; and two of the men were fortunate enough 
each to get a horse in exchange for a buffalo robe. One of these 
men was Pierre Dorion, the half-breed interpreter, to whose 
suffering family the horse was a most timely acquisition. And 



ASTORIA. 225 

here we cannot but notice the wonderful patience, persever- 
ance, and hardihood of the Indian women, as exemplified in 
the conduct of the poor squaw of the interpreter. She was 
now far advanced in her pregnancy, and had two children to 
take care of, one four, and the other two years of age. The 
latter of course she had frequently to carry on her back, in 
addition to the burden usually imposed upon the squaw, yet 
she had borne all her hardships without a murmur, and* 
throughout this weary and painful journey had kept pace 
with the best of the pedestrians. Indeed on various occasions 
in the course of this enterprise, she displayed a force of char- 
acter that won the respect and applause of the white men. 

Mr. Hunt endeavored to gather some information from these 
Indians concerning the country and the course of the rivers. 
His communications with them had to be by signs, and a few 
words which he had learnt, and of course were extremely 
vague. All that he could learn from them was that the great 
river, the Columbia, was still far distant, but he could ascer- 
tain nothing as to the route he ought to take to arrive at it. 
For the two following days they continued westward upward 
of forty miles along the little stream, until they crossed it just 
before its junction with Snake Eiver, which they found still 
running to the north. Before them was a wintry-looking 
mountain covered with snow on all sides. 

In three days more they made about seventy miles, fording 
two small rivers, the waters of which were very cold. Provi- 
sions were extremely scarce ; their chief sustenance was porta- 
ble soup, a meagre diet for weary pedestrians. 

On the 27th of November the river led them into the moun- 
tains through a rocky defile where there was scarcely room to 
pass. They were frequently obliged to unload the horses to 
get them by the narrow places, and sometimes to wade through 
the water in getting round rocks and butting cliffs. All their 
food this day was a beaver which they had caught the night 
before ; by evening the cravings of hunger were so sharp, and 
the prospect of any supply among the mountains so faint, that 
they had to kill one of the horses. " The men," says Mr. Hunt 
in his journal, " find the meat very good, and indeed, so should 
I, were it not for the attachment I have to the animal." 

Early in the following day, after proceeding ten miles to the 
north, they came to two lodges of Shoshonies, who seemed in 
nearly as great an extremity as themselves, having just killed 
two horses for food. They had no other provisions excepting 



226 ASTORIA. 

the seed of a weed which they gather in great quantities, and 
pound fine. It resembles hemp seed. Mr. Hunt purchased a 
bag of it, and also some small pieces of horse-flesh, which he 
began to relish, pronouncing them " fat and tender." 

From these Indians he received information that several 
white men had gone down the river, some one side, and a good 
many on the other ; these last he concluded to be Mr. Crooks 
and his party. He was thus released from much anxiety about 
their safety, especially as the Indians spoke of Mr. Crooks 
having one of his dogs yet, which showed that he and his men 
had not been reduced to extremity of hunger. 

As Mr. Hunt feared that he might be several days in passing 
through this mountain defile, and run the risk of famine, he 
encamped in the neighborhood of the Indians, for the purpose 
of bartering with them for a horse. The evening was expended 
in ineffectual trials. He offered a gun, a buffalo robe, and 
various other articles. The poor fellows had, probably, like 
himself, the fear of starvation before their eyes. At length the 
women, learning the object of his pressing solicitations and 
tempting offers, set up such a terrible hue and cry that he was 
fairly howled and scolded from the ground. 

The next morning early, the Indians seemed very desirous 
to get rid of their visitors, fearing, probably, for the safety of 
their horses. In reply to Mr. Hunt's inquiries about the moun- 
tains, they told him that he would have to sleep but three 
nights more among them, and that six days' travelling would 
take him to the falls of the Columbia ; information in which he 
put no faith, believing it was only given to induce him to set for- 
ward. These, he was told, were the last Snakes he would meet 
with, and that he would soon come to a nation called Sciatogas. 

Forward then did he proceed on his tedious journey, which 
at every step grew more painful. The road continued for two 
days through narrow defiles, where they were repeatedly 
obliged to unload the horses. Sometimes the river passed 
through such rocky chasms and under such steep precipices 
that they had to leave it, and make their way, with excessive 
labor, over immense hills, almost impassable for horses. On 
some of these hills were a few pine trees, and their summits 
were covered with snow. On the second day of this scramble 
one ^f the hunters killed a black-tailed deer, which afforded 
the half -starved travellers a sumptuous repast. Their progress 
these two days was twenty-eight miles, a little to the north- 
ward of east. 



ASTORIA. 227 

The month of December set in drearily, with rain in the val- 
leys and snow upon the hills. They had to climb a mountain 
with snow to the midleg, which increased their painful toil. 
A small beaver supplied them with a scanty meal, which they 
eked out with frozen blackberries, haws, and choke-cherries, 
which they found in the course of their scramble. Their jour- 
ney this day, though excessively fatiguing, was but thirteen 
miles : and all the next day they had to remain encamped, not 
being able to see half a mile ahead, on account of a snow-storm. 
Having nothing else to eat, they were compelled to kill another 
of their horses. The next day they resumed their march in 
snow and rain, but with all their efforts could only get forward 
nine miles, having for a part of the distance to unload the 
horses and carry the packs themselves. On the succeeding 
morning they were obliged to leave the river and scramble up 
the hills. From the summit of these, they got a wide view of 
the surrounding country, and it was a prospect almost sufficient 
to make them despair. In every direction they beheld snowy 
mountains, partially sprinkled with pines and other evergreens, 
and spreading a desert and toilsome world around them. The 
wind howled over the bleak and wintry landscape, and seemed 
to penetrate to the marrow of their bones. They waded on 
through the snow, which at every step was more than knee 
deep. 

After toiling in this way all day, they had the mortification 
to find that they were but four miles distant from the encamp- 
ment of the preceding night, such was the meandering of the 
river among these dismal hills Pinched with famine, ex- 
hausted with fatigue, with evening approaching, and a wintry 
wild still lengthening as they advanced, they began to look 
forward with sad forebodings to the night's exposure upon this 
frightful waste. Fortunately they succeeded in reaching a 
cluster of pines about sunset. Their axes were immediately at 
work : they cut down trees, piled them up in great heaps, and 
soon had huge fires " to cheer their cold and hungry hearts." 

About three o'clock in the morning it again began to snow, 
and at daybreak they found themselves, as it were, in a cloud, 
scarcely being able to distinguish objects at the distance of a 
hundred yards. Guiding themselves by the sound of running 
water, they set out for the river, and by slipping and sliding 
contrived to get down to its bank. One of the horses, missing 
his footing, rolled down several hundred yards with his load, 
but sustained no injury. The weather in the valley was less 



228 ASTORIA. 

rigorous than on the hills. The snow lay but ankle deep, and 
there was a quiet rain now falling. After creeping along for 
six miles, they encamped on the border of the river. Being 
utterly destitute of provisions, they were again compelled to 
kill one of their horses to appease their famishing hunger. 



CHAPTEK XXXV. 



The wanderers had now accomplished four hundred and 
seventy-two miles of their dreary journey since leaving the 
Caldron Linn ; how much further they had yet to travel, and 
what hardships to encounter, no one knew. 

On the morning of the 6th of December they left their dis- 
mal encampment, but had scarcely begun their march when, 
to their surprise, they beheld a party of white men coming up 
along the opposite bank of the river. As they drew nearer 
they were recognized for Mr. Crooks and his companions. 
When they came opposite, and could make themselves heard 
across the murmuring of the river, their first cry was for food ; 
in fact, they were almost starved. Mr. Hunt immediately 
returned to the camp, and had a kind of canoe made out of 
the skin of the horse killed on the preceding night. This was 
done after the Indian fashion, by drawing up the edges of the 
skin with thongs, and keeping them distended by sticks or 
thwarts pieces. In this fraiJ bark, Sardepie, one of the Cana,- 
dians, carried over a portion of the flesh of the horse to the 
famishing party on the opposite side of the river, and brought 
back with him Mr. Crooks and the Canadian, Le Clerc. The 
forlorn and wasted looks and starving condition of these two 
men struck dismay to the hearts of Mr. Hunt's followers. 
They had been accustomed to each other's appearance, and to 
the gradual operation of hunger and hardship upon their 
frames, but the change in the looks of these men, since last 
they parted, was a type of the famine and desolation of the 
land; and they now began to indulge the horrible presenti- 
ment that they would all starve together, or be reduced to the 
direful alternative of casting lots ! 

When Mr. Crooks had appeased his hunger, he gave Mr. 
Hunt some account of his wayfaring. On the side of the river 
along which he had kept he had met with but few Indians, 



ASTORIA. 229 

and those were too miserably poor to yield much assistance. 
For the first eighteen days after leaving the Caldron Linn, he 
and his men had been confined to half a meal in twenty-f our 
hours ; for three days following they had subsisted on a single 
beaver, a few wild cherries, and the soles of old moccasons ; 
and for the last six days their only animal food had been the 
carcass of a dog. They had been three days' journey further 
down the river than Mr. Hunt, always keeping as near to its 
banks as possible, and frequently climbing over sharp and 
rocky ridges that projected into the stream. At length they 
had arrived to where the mountains increased in height, and 
came closer to the river, with perpendicular precipices, which 
rendered it impossible to keep along the stream. The river here 
rushed with incredible velocity through a defile not more than 
thirty yards wide, where cascades and rapids succeeded each 
other almost without intermission. Even had the opposite 
banks, therefore, been such as to permit a continuance of their 
journey, it would have been madness to attempt to pass the 
tumultuous current, either on rafts or otherwise. Still bent, 
however, on pushing forward, they attempted to climb the 
opposing mountains; and struggled on through the snow for 
half a day until, coming to where they could command a 
prospect, they found that they were not half way to the sum- 
mit, and that mountain upon mountain lay piled beyond them, 
in wintry desolation. Famished and emaciated as they were, 
to continue forward would be to perish; their only chance 
seemed to be to regain the river, and retrace their steps up its 
banks. It was in this forlorn and retrograde march that they 
had met Mr. Hunt and his party. 

Mr. Crooks also gave information of some others of their 
fellow adventurers. He had spoken several days previously 
with Mr. Eeed and Mr. M'Kenzie, who with their men were on 
the opposite side of the river, where it was impossible to get 
over to them. They informed him that Mr. M'Lellan had 
struck across from the little river above the mountains, in the 
hope of falling in with some of the tribe of Flatheads, who in- 
habit the western skirts of the Eocky range. As the com- 
panions of Eeed and M'Kenzie were picked men, and had 
found provisions more abundant on their side of the river, 
they were in better condition, and more fitted to contend with 
the difficulties of the country, than those of Mr. Crooks, and 
when he lost sight of them, were pushing onward, down the 
course of the river. 



230 ASTORIA. 

Mr. Hunt took a night to revolve over his critical situation, 
and to determine what was to be done. No time was to be 
lost ; he had twenty men and more in his own party to pro- 
vide for, and Mr. Crooks and his men to relieve. To linger 
would be to starve. The idea of retracing his steps was intol- 
erable, and, notwithstanding all the discouraging accounts of 
the ruggedness of the mountains lower down the river, he 
would have been disposed to attempt them, but the depth of 
the snow with which they were covered deterred him; having 
already experienced the impossibility of forcing his way against 
such an impediment. 

The only alternative, therefore, appeared to be to return and 
seek the Indian bands scattered along the small rivers above 
the mountains. Perhaps from some of these he might procure 
horses enough to support him until he could reach the Colum- 
bia ; for he still cherished the hope of arriving at that river in 
the course of the winter, though he was apprehensive that 
few of Mr. Crooks' party would be sufficiently strong to follow 
him. Even in adopting this course he had to make up his 
mind to the certainty of several days of famine at the outset, 
for it would take that time to reach the last Indian lodges 
from which he had parted, and until they should arrive there 
his people would have nothing to subsist upon but haws and 
wild berries, excepting one miserable horse, which was little 
better than skin and bone. 

After a night of sleepless cogitation, Mr. Hunt announced to 
his men the dreary alternative he had adopted, and prepara- 
tions were made to take Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc across the 
river, with the remainder of the meat as the other party wer^ 
to keep up along the opposite bank. The skin canoe had un- 
fortunately been lost in the night; a raft was constructed, 
therefore, after the manner of the natives, of bundles of wil- 
lows, but it could not be floated across the impetuous current. 
The men were directed, in consequence, to keep on along the 
river by themselves, while Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc would pro- 
ceed with Mr. Hunt. They all then took up their retrograde 
march with drooping spirits. 

In a little while it was found that Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc 
were so feeble as to walk with difficulty, so that Mr. Hunt 
was obliged to retard his pace, that they might keep up with 
him. His men grew impatient at the delay. They murmured 
that they had a long and desolate region to traverse, before 
they could arrive at the point where they might expect to find 



ASTORIA, 231 

horses; tliat it was impossible for Crooks and Le Clerc, in 
their feeble condition, to get over it ; that to remain with them 
would only be to starve in their company. They importuned 
Mr. Hunt, therefore, to leave these unfortunate men to their 
fate, and think only of the safety of himself and Ins party. 
Finding him not to be moved, either by entreaties or their 
clamors, they began to proceed without him, singly and in 
parties. Among those who thus went oil was Pierre Dorion, 
the interpreter. Pierre owned the only remaining horse, which 
was now a mere skeleton. Mr. Hunt had suggested, in their 
present extremity, that it should be killed for food ; to which 
the half-breed flatly refused his assent, and cudgelling the 
miserable animal forward, pushed on sullenly, with the air of 
a man doggedly determined to quarrel for his right. In this 
way Mr. Hunt saw his men, one after another break away, 
until but five remained to bear him company. 

On the following morning another raft was made, on which 
Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc again attempted to ferry themselves 
across the river, but after repeated trials had to give up in 
despair. This caused additional delay ; after which they con- 
tinued to crawl forward at a snail's pace. Some of the men 
who had remained with Mr. Hunt now became impatient of 
these incumbrances, and urged him clamorously to push for- 
ward, crying out that they should all starve. The night which 
succeeded was intensely cold, so that one of the men was 
severely frost-bitten. In the course of the night Mr. Crooks 
was taken ill, and in the morning was still more incompetent 
to travel. Their situation was now desperate, for their stock 
of provisions was reduced to three beaver-skins. Mr. Hunt, 
therefore, resolved to push on, overtake his people, and insist 
upon having the horse of Pierre Dorion sacrificed for the relief 
of all hands. Accordingly he left two of his men to help 
Crooks and Le Clerc on their way, giving them two of the 
beaver skins for their support : the remaining skin he retainer" 
as provision for himself and the three other men who struc- 
forward with him. 



232 ASTORIA. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

All that day Mr. Hunt and his three comrades travelled 
without eating. At night they made a tantalizing supper on 
their heaver skin, and were nearly exhausted by hunger and 
cold. The next day, December 10th, they overtook the ad- 
vance party, who were all as much famished as themselves, 
some of them not having eaten since the morning of the 
seventh. Mr. Hunt now proposed the sacrifice of Pierre 
Dorion's skeleton horse. Here he again met with positive 
and vehement opposition from the half-breed, who was too 
sullen and vindictive a fellow to be easily dealt with. What 
was singular, the men, though suffering such pinching hunger, 
interfered in favor of the horse. They represented that it was 
better to keep on as long as possible without resorting to this 
last resource. Possibly the Indians, of whom they were in 
quest, might have shifted their encampment, in which case it 
would be time enough to kill the horse to escape starvation. 
Mr. Hunt, therefore, was prevailed upon to grant Pierre 
Dorion's horse a reprieve. 

Fortunately, they had not proceeded much farther, when, 
toward evening, they came in sight of a lodge of Shoshonies, 
with a number of horses grazing around it. The sight was as 
unexpected as it was joyous. Having seen no Indians in this 
neighborhood as they passed down the river, they must have 
subsequently come out from among the mountains. Mr. 
Hunt, who first descried them, checked the eagerness of his 
companions, knowing the unwillingness of these Indians to 
part with their horses, and their aptness to hurry them off 
and conceal them, in case of an alarm. This was no time to 
risk such a disappointment. Approaching, therefore, stealthily 
and silently, they came upon the savages by surprise, who 
fled in terror. Five of their horses were eagerly seized, and 
one was dispatched upon the spot. The carcass was imme- 
diately cut up, and a part of it hastily cooked and ravenously 
devoured. A man was now sent on horseback with a supply 
of the flesh to Mr. Crooks and his companions. He reached 
them in the night ; they were so famished that the supply sent 
them seemed but to aggravate their hunger, and they were 



ASTORIA. 233 

almost tempted to kill and eat the horse that had brought the 
messenger. Availing themselves of the assistance of the ani- 
mal, they reached the camp early in the morning. 

On arriving there, Mr. Crooks was shocked to find that, while 
the people on this side of the river were amply supplied with 
provisions, none had been sent to his own forlorn and famish- 
ing men on the opposite bank. He immediately caused a skin 
canoe to be constructed, and called out to his men to fill their 
camp-kettles with water and hang them over the fire, that no 
time might be lost in cooking the meat the moment it should 
be received. The river was so narrow, though deep, that every- 
thing could be distinctly heard and seen across it. The kettles 
were placed on the fire, and the water was boiling by the time 
the canoe was completed. When all was ready, however, no 
one would undertake to ferry the meat across. A vague and 
almost superstitious terror had infected the minds of Mr. 
Hunt's followers, enfeebled and rendered imaginative of hor- 
rors by the dismal scenes and sufferings through which they 
had passed. They regarded the haggard crew, hovering like 
spectres of famine on the opposite bank, with indefinite feel- 
ings of awe and apprehension, as if something desperate and 
dangerous was to be feared from them. 

Mr. Crooks tried in vain to reason or shame them out of this 
singular state of mind. He then attempted to navigate the 
canoe himself, but found his strength incompetent to brave 
the impetuous current. The good feelings of Ben Jones, the 
Kentuckian, at length overcame his fears, and he ventured 
over. The supply he brought was received with trembling 
avidity. A poor Canadian, however, named Jean Baptiste 
Prevost, whom famine had rendered wild and desperate, ran 
frantically about the bank, after Jones had returned, crying 
out to Mr. Hunt to send the canoe for him, and take him from 
that horrible region of famine, declaring that otherwise he 
would never march another step, but would lie down there 
and die, 

The canoe was shortly sent over again under the manage- 
ment of Joseph Delaunay, with further supplies. Prevost 
immediately pressed forward to embark. Delaunay refused to 
admit him, telling him that there was now a sufficient supply 
of meat on his side of the river. He replied that it was not 
cooked, and he shonld starve before it was ready; he implored, 
therefore, to be taken where he could get something to appease 
his hunger immediately. Finding the canoe putting off with- 



234 ASTORIA. 

out him, he forced himself aboard. As he drew near the 
opposite shore, and beheld meat roasting before the fire, he 
jumped up, shouted, clapped his hands, and danced in a deli- 
rium of joy, until he upset the canoe. The poor wretch was 
swept away by the current and drowned, and it was with ex- 
treme difficulty that Delaunay reached the shore. 

Mr. Hunt now sent all his men forward excepting two or 
three* In the evening he caused another horse to be killed, 
and a canoe to be made out of the skin, in which he sent over 
a further supply of meat to the opposite party. The canoe 
brought back John Day, the Kentucky hunter, who came to 
join his former employer and commander, Mr. Crooks. Poor 
Day, once so active and vigorous, was now reduced to a condi- 
tion even more feeble and emaciated than his companions. 
Mr. Crooks had such a value for the man, on account of his 
past services and faithful character, that he determined not to 
quit him ; he exhorted Mr. Hunt, however, to proceed forward, 
and join the party, as his presence was all important to the 
conduct of the expedition. One of the Canadians, Jean Bap- 
tiste Dubreuil, likewise remained with Mr. Crooks. 

Mr. Hunt left two horses with them, and a part of the car- 
cass of the last that had been killed. This, he hoped, would be 
sufficient to sustain them until they should reach the Indian 
encampment. 

One of the chief dangers attending the enfeebled condition 
of Mr. Crooks and his companions was their being overtaken 
by the Indians whose horses had been seized, though Mr. Hunt 
hoped that he had guarded against any resentment on the part 
of the savages, by leaving various articles in their lodge, more 
than sufficient to compensate for the outrage he had been com- 
pelled to commit. 

Eesuming his onward course, Mr. Hunt came up with his 
people in the evening. The next day, December 13th, he be- 
held several Indians, with three horses, on the opposite side of 
the river, and after a time came to the two lodges which he 
had seen on going down. Here he endeavored in vain to 
barter a rifle for a horse, but again succeeded in effecting the 
purchase with an old tin kettle, aided by a few beads. 

The two succeeding days were cold and stormy ; the snow 
was augmenting, and there was a good deal of ice running in 
the river. Their road, however, was becoming easier; they 
were getting out of the hills, and finally emerged into the open 
country, after twenty days of fatigue, famine, and hardship of 



ASTORIA. 235 

every kind, in the ineffectual attempt to find a passage down 
the river. 

They now encamped on a little willowed stream, running 
from the east, which they had crossed on the 26th of Novem- 
ber. Here they found a dozen lodges of Shoshonies, recently 
arrived, who informed them that had they persevered along 
the river, they would have found their difficulties augment 
until they became absolutely insurmountable. This intelli- 
gence added to the anxiety of Mr. Hunt for the fate of Mr. 
M'Kenzie and his people, who had kept on. 

Mr. Hunt now followed up the little river, and encamped at 
some lodges of Shoshonies, from whom he procured a couple 
of horses, a dog, a few dried fish, and some roots and dried 
cherries. Two or three days were exhausted in obtaining in- 
formation about the route, and what time it would take to get 
to the Sciatogas, a hospitable tribe on the west side of the 
mountains, represented as having many horses. The replies 
were various, but concurred in saying that the distance was 
great, and would occupy from seventeen to twenty-one nights. 
Mr. Hunt then tried to procure a guide ; but though he sent to 
various lodges up and down the river, offering articles of great 
value in Indian estimation, no one would venture. The snow, 
they said, was waist deep in the mountains; and to all his 
offers they shook their heads, gave a shiver, and replied, "We 
shall freeze ! we shall freeze I" At the same time they urged 
him to remain and pass the winter among them. 

Mr. Hunt was in a dismal dilemma. To attempt the moun- 
tains without a guide would be certain death to him and all his 
people ; to remain there, after having already been so long on 
the journey, and at such great expense, was worse to him, he 
said, than "two deaths." He now changed his tone with the 
Indians, charged them with deceiving him in respect to the 
mountains, and talking with a " forked tongue," or, in other 
words, with lying. He upbraided them with their want of 
courage, and told them they were women, to shrink from the 
perils of such a journey. At length one of them, piqued by his 
taunts, or tempted by his offers, agreed to be his guide ; for 
which he was to receive a gun, a pistol, three knives, two 
horses, and a little of every article in possession of the party ; 
a reward sufficient to make him one of the wealthiest of his 
vagabond nation. 

Once more, then, on the 21st of December, they set out upon 
their way faring with newly excited spirits. Two other Indians 



236 ASTORIA. 

accompanied their guide, who led them immediately back to 
Snake Kiver, which they followed, down for a short distance, 
in search of some Indian rafts made of reeds, on which they 
might cross. Finding none, Mr. Hunt caused a horse to be 
killed and a canoe to be made out of its skin. Here, on the 
opposite bank, they saw the thirteen men of Mr. Crooks' party, 
who had continued up along the river. They told Mr. Hunt, 
across the stream, that they had not seen Mr. Crooks, and the 
two men who had remained with him, since the day that he 
had separated from them. 

The canoe proving too small, another horse was killed, and 
the skin of it joined to that of the first. Night came on before 
the little bark had made more than two voyages. Being badly 
made, it was taken apart and put together again, by the light 
of the fire. The night was cold ; the men were weary and dis- 
heartened with such varied and incessant toil and hardship. 
They crouched, dull and drooping, around their fires ; many of 
them began to express a wish to remain where they were for 
the winter. The very necessity of crossing the river dismayed 
some of them in their present enfeebled and dejected state. 
It was rapid and turbulent, and filled with floating ice, and 
they remembered that two of their comrades had already per- 
ished in its waters. Others looked forward with misgivings to 
the long and dismal journey through lonesome regions that 
awaited them, when they should have passed this dreary flood. 

At an early hour of the morning, December 23d, they began 
to cross the river. Much ice had formed during the night, and 
they were obliged to break it for some distance on each shore. 
At length they all got over in safety to the west side ; and 
their spirits rose on having achieved this perilous passage. 
Here they were rejoined by the people of Mr. Crooks, who had 
with them a horse and a dog, which they had recently pro- 
cured. The poor fellows were in the most squalid and ema- 
ciated state. Three of them were so completely prostrated in 
strength and spirits that they expressed a wish to remain 
among the Snakes. Mr. Hunt, therefore, gave them the canoe, 
that they might cross the river, and a few articles, with which 
to procure necessaries until they should meet with Mr. Crooks. 
There was another man, named Michael Carriere, who was al- 
most equally reduced, but he determined to proceed with his 
comrades, who were now incorporated with the party of Mr. 
Hunt. After the day's exertions they encamped together on 
the banks of the river. This was the last night they were to 



ASTORIA. 237 

spend upon its borders. More than eight hundred miles of 
hard travelling and many weary days had it cost them, and 
the sufferings connected with it rendered it hateful in their re- 
membrance, so that the Canadian voyageurs always spoke of 
it as " La maudite riviere enragee " — the accursed mad river, 
thus coupling a malediction with its name. 



CHAPTEE XXXVII. 

On the 24th of December, all things being arranged, Mr. 
Hunt turned his back upon the disastrous banks of Snake 
Eiver, and struck his course westward for the mountains. His 
party, being augmented by the late followers of Mr. Crooks, 
amounted now to thirty-two white men, three Indians, and 
the squaw and two children of Pierre Dorion. Five jaded, 
half -starved horses were laden with their luggage, and, in case 
of need, were to furnish them with provisions. They travelled 
painfully about fourteen miles a day, over plains and among 
hills, rendered dreary by occasional falls of snow and rain. 
Their only sustenance was a scanty meal of horse-flesh once in 
four-and-twenty hours. 

On the third day the poor Canadian, Carriere, one of the 
famished party of Mr. Crooks, gave up in despair, and lying 
down ""apon the ground declared he could go no farther. Ef- 
forts were made to cheer him up, but it was found that the 
poor fellow was absolutely exhausted and could not keep on 
his legs. He was mounted, therefore, upon one of the horses, 
though the forlorn animal was in little better plight than 
himself. 

On the 28th they came upon a small stream winding to the 
north, through a fine level valley, the mountains receding on 
each side. Here their Indian friends pointed out a chain of 
woody mountains to the left, running north and south, and 
covered with snow, over which they would have to pass. They 
kept along the valley for twenty-one miles on the 29th, suffer- 
ing much from a continued fall of snow and rain, and being 
twice obliged to ford the icy stream. Early in the following 
morning the squaw of Pierre Dorion, who had hitherto kept 
on without murmuring or flinching, was suddenly taken in 
labor, and enriched her husband with another child. As the 



238 ASTORIA, 

fortitude and good conduct of the poor woman had gained for 
her the good will of the party, her situation caused concern 
and perplexity. Pierre, however, treated the matter as an oc 
currence that could soon be arranged and need cause no delay. 
He remained by his wife in the camp, with his other children 
and his horse, and promised soon to rejoin the main body, who 
proceeded on their march. 

Finding that the little river entered the mountains, they 
abandoned it, and turned off for a few miles among hills. 
Here another Canadian, named La Bonte, gave out, and had 
to be helped on horseback. As the horse was too weak to bear 
both him and his pack, Mr. Hunt took the latter upon his own 
shoulders. Thus, with difficulties augmenting at every step, 
they urged their toilsome way among the hills, half famished 
and faint at heart, when they came to where a fair valley 
spread out before them of great extent, and several leagues in 
width, with a beautiful stream meandering through it. A 
genial climate seemed to prevail here, for though the snow 
lay upon all the mountains within sight, there was none to be 
seen in the valley. The travellers gazed with delight upon this 
serene, sunny landscape, but their joy was complete on behold- 
ing six lodges of Shoshonies pitched upon the borders of the 
stream, with a number of horses and dogs about them. They 
all pressed forward with eagerness and soon reached the camp. 
Here their first attention was to obtain provisions. A rifle, an 
old musket, a tomahawk, a tin kettle, and a small quantity of 
ammunition soon procured them four horses, three dogs, and 
some roots. Part of the live stock was immediately killed, 
cooked with all expedition, and as promptly devoured. ' A 
hearty meal restored every one to good spirits. In the course 
of the following morning the Dorion family made its reappear- 
ance. Pierre came trudging in the advance, followed by his 
valued, though skeleton steed, on which was mounted his 
squaw with the new-born infant in her arms, and her boy of 
two years old wrapped in a blanket and slung at her side, 
The mother looked as unconcerned as if nothing had happened 
to her; so easy is nature in her operations in the wilderness, 
when free from the enfeebling refinements of luxury, and the 
tamperings and appliances of art. 

The next morning ushered in the new year (1812). Mr. Hunt 
was about to resume his march when his men requested per- 
mission to celebrate the day. This was particularly urged 
by the Canadian voyageurs, with whom new-year's day is a 



ASTORIA. 239 

favorite festival, and who never willingly give up a holiday, 
under any circumstances. There was no resisting such an 
application ; so the day was passed in repose and revelry ; the 
poor Canadians contrived to sing and dance in defiance of all 
their hardships, and there was a sumptuous new-year's ban- 
quet of dog's-meat and horse-flesh. 

After two days of welcome rest the travellers addressed 
themselves once more to their painful journey. The Indians 
of the lodges pointed out a distant gap through which they 
must pass in traversing the ridge of mountains. They assured 
them that they would be but little incommoded by snow, and 
in three days would arrive among the Sciatogas. Mr. Hunt, 
however, had been so frequently deceived by Indian accounts 
of routes and distances, that he gave but little faith 'to this 
information. 

The travellers continued their course due west for five days, 
crossing the valley and entering the mountains. Here the 
travelling became excessively toilsome, across rough stony 
ridges, and amid fallen trees. They were often knee deep in 
snow, and sometimes in the hollows between the ridges sank 
up to their waists. The weather was extremely cold, the sky 
covered with clouds, so that for days they had not a glimpse of 
the sun. In traversing the highest ridge they had a wide but 
chilling prospect over a wilderness of snowy mountains. 

On the 6th of January, however, they had crossed the divid- 
ing summit of the chain, and were evidently under the influ- 
ence of a milder climate. The snow began to decrease, the sun 
once more emerged from the thick canopy of clouds, and shone 
cheeringly upon them, and they caught a sight of what ap- 
peared to be a plain stretching out in the west. They hailed it 
as the poor Israelites hailed the first glimpse of the promised 
land, for th^y flattered themselves that this might be the great 
plain of the Columbia, and that their painful pilgrimage might 
be drawing to a close. 

It was now five days since they had left the lodges of the 
Shoshonies, during which they had come about sixty miles, and 
their guide assured them that in the course of the next day 
they would see the Sciatogas. 

On the following morning, therefore, they pushed forward 
with eagerness, and soon fell upon a small stream which led 
them through a deep, narrow defile, between stupendous ridges. 
Here among the rocks and precipices they saw gangs of that 
mountain-loving animal, the black-tailed deer, and came to 



240 ASTORIA. 

where great tracks of horses were to be seen in all directions, 
made by the Indian hunters. 

The snow had entirely disappeared, and the hopes of soon 
coming upon some Indian encampment induced Mr. Hunt to 
press on. Many of the men, however, were so enfeebled that 
they could not keep up with the main body, but lagged, at in« 
tervals, behind, and some of them did not arrive at the night 
encampment. In the course of this day's march the recently 
born child of Pierre Dorion died. 

The march was resumed early the next morning, without 
waiting for the stragglers. The stream, which they had followed 
throughout the preceding day was now swollen by the influx of 
another river ; the declivities of the hills were green and the 
valleys were clothed with grass. At length the jovial cry was 
given of " an Indian camp !" It was yet in the distance, in the 
Bosom of the green valley, but they could perceive that it con- 
sisted of numerous lodges, and that hundreds of horses were 
grazing the grassy meadows around it. The prospect of abun- 
dance of horse-flesh diff used universal joy, for by this time 
the whole stock of travelling provisions was reduced to the 
skeleton steed of Pierre Dorion, and another wretched animal, 
equally emaciated, that had been repeatedly reprieved during 
the journey. 

A forced march soon brought the weary and hungry travel- 
lers to the camp. It proved to be a strong party of Sciatogas 
and Tus-che-pas. There were thirty-four lodges, comfortably 
constructed of mats; the Indians, too, were better clothed 
than any of the wandering bands they had hitherto met on 
this side of the Kocky Mountains. Indeed they were as well 
clad as the generality of the wild hunter tribes. Each had a 
good buffalo or deer skin robe ; and a deer skin hunter shirt 
and leggins. Upward of two thousand horses were ranging the 
pastures around their encampment; but what delighted Mi\ 
Hunt was, on entering the lodges, to behold brass kettles, axes, 
copper tea-kettles, and various other articles of civilized man 
ufacture, which showed that these Indians had an indirect 
communication with the people of the sea-coast who traded 
with the whites. He made eager inquiries of the Sciatogas, 
and gathered from them that the great river (the Columbia), 
was but two days' march distant, and that several white people 
had recently descended it, who he hoped might prove to be 
M'Lellan, M'Kenzie, and their companions. 

It was with the utmost joy. and the most profound gratitude 



\ 



ASTORIA. 241 

to Heaven, that Mr. Hunt found himself and his band of weary 
and famishing wanderers, thus safely extricated from the most 
perilous part of their long journey, and within the prospect of 
a termination of their toils. All the stragglers, who had 
lagged behind, arrived, one after another, excepting the poor 
Canadian voyageur, Carriere. He had been seen late in the 
preceding afternoon, riding behind a Snake Indian, near some 
lodges of that nation, a few miles distant from the last night's 
encampment, and it was expected that he would soon make his 
appearance. 

The first object of Mr. Hunt was to obtain provisions for his 
men. A little venison, of an indifferent quality, and some 
roots were all that could be procured that evening ; fcut the 
next day he succeeded in purchasing a mare and colt, which 
were immediately killed, and the cravings of the half -starved 
people in some degree appeased. 

For several days they remained in the neighborhood of these 
Indians, reposing after all their hardships, and feasting upon 
horse-flesh and roots, obtained in subsequent traffic. Many of 
the people ate to such excess as to render themselves sick, 
others were lame from their past journey ; but all gradually 
recruited in the repose and abundance of the valley. Horses 
were obtained here much more readily and at a cheaper rate 
than among the Snakes. A blanket, a knife, or a half pound 
of blue beads would purchase a steed, and at this rate many of 
the men bought horses for their individual use. 

This tribe of Indians, who are represented as a proud-spirited 
race, and uncommonly cleanly, never eat horses nor dogs, nor 
would they permit the raw flesh of either to be brought into 
their huts. They had a small quantity of venison in each 
lodge, but set so high a price upon it that the white men, in 
their impoverished state, could not afford to purchase it. They 
hunted the deer on horseback, " ringing," or surrounding 
them, and running them down in a circle. They were admi- 
rable horsemen, and their weapons were bows and arrows, 
which they managed with great dexterity. They were alto- 
gether primitive in their habits, and seemed to cling to the 
usages of savage life, even when possessed of the aids of civili- 
zation. They had axes among them, yet they generally made 
use of a stone mallet wrought into the shape of a bottle, and 
wedges of elk-horn, in splitting their wood. Though they 
might have two or three brass kettles hanging in their lodges, 
yet they would frequently use vessels made of willow, for 



242 ASTORIA. 

carrying water, and would even boil their meat in them, by 
means of hot stones. Their women wore caps of willow neatly 
worked and figured. 

As Carriere, the Canadian straggler, did not make his appear 
ance for two or three days after the encampment in the valley, 
two men were sent out on horseback in search of him. They 
returned, however, without success. The lodges of the Snake 
Indians near which he had been seen were removed, and they 
could find no trace of him. Several days more elapsed, yet 
nothing was seen or heard of him, or of the Snake horseman, 
behind whom he had been last observed. It was feared, there- 
fore, that he had either perished through hunger and fatigue ; 
had been murdered by the Indians ; or, being left to himself, 
had mistaken some hunting tracks for the trail of the party, 
and been led astray and lost. 

The river on the banks of which they were encamped, emp- 
tied into the Columbia, was called by the natives the Eu-o-tal- 
la, or Umatalla, and abounded w4th beaver. In the course of 
their sojourn in the valley which it watered, they twice shifted 
their camp, proceeding about thirty miles down its course, 
which was to the west. A heavy fall of rain caused the river 
to overflow its banks, dislodged them from their encampment, 
and drowned three of their horses, which were tethered in the 
low ground. 

Further conversation with the Indians satisfied them that 
they were in the neighborhood of the Columbia. The number 
of the white men who they said had passed down the river, 
agreed with that of M'Lellan, M'Kenzie, and their companions, 
and increased the hope of Mr. Hunt that they might have 
passed through the wilderness with safety. 

These Indians had a vague story that white men were coming 
to trade among them ; and they often spoke of two great men 
named Ke-Koosh and Jacquean, who gave them tobacco, and 
smoked with them. Jacquean, they said, had a house some- 
where upon the great river. Some of the Canadians supposed 
they were speaking of one Jacquean Finlay, a clerk of the 
Northwest Company, and inferred that the house must be some 
trading post on one of the tributary streams of the Columbia. 
The Indians were overjoyed when they found this band of 
white men intended to return and trade with them. They 
promised to use all diligence in collecting quantities of beaver 
skins, and no doubt proceeded to make deadly war upon that 
sagacious, but ill-fated animal, who, in general, lived in peace- 



ASTORIA. 243 

ful insignificance among his Indian neighbors, before the intru- 
sion of the white trader. On the 20th of January, Mr. Hunt 
took leave of these friendly Indians, and of the river on which 
they were encamped, and continued westward. 

At length, on the following day, the wayworn travellers 
lifted up their eyes and beheld before them the long-sought 
waters of the Columbia. The sight was hailed with as much 
transport as if they had already reached the end of their pil- 
grimage ; nor can we wonder at their joy. Two hundred and 
forty miles had they marched, through wintry wastes and 
rugged mountains, since leaving Snake Eiver ; and six months 
of perilous wayfaring had they experienced since their depart- 
ure from the Arickara village on the Missouri. Their whole 
route by land and water from that point had been, according to 
their computation, seventeen hundred and fifty-one miles, in the 
course of which they had endured all kinds of hardships. In 
fact, the necessity of avoiding the dangerous country of the 
Blackf eet had obliged them to make a bend to the south, and 
to traverse a great additional extent of unknown wilderness. 

The place where they struck the Columbia was some distance 
below the junction of its two great branches, Lewis and Clarke 
Rivers, and not far from the influx of the Wallah- Wallah. It 
was a beautiful stream, three quarters of a mile wide, totally 
free from trees ; bordered in some places with steep rocks, in 
others with pebbled shores. 

On the banks of the Columbia they found a miserable horde 
of Indians, called Akai-chies, with no clothing but a scanty 
mantle of the skins of animals, and sometimes a pair of sleeves 
of wolf's skin. Their lodges were shaped like a tent, and very 
tight and warm, being covered with mats of rushes; beside 
which they had excavations on the ground, lined with mats, 
and occupied by the women, who were even more slightly clad 
than the men. These people subsisted chiefly by fishing; hav- 
ing canoes of a rude construction, being merely the trunks of 
pine trees split and hollowed out by fire. Their lodges were 
well stored with dried salmon, and they had great quantities 
of fresh salmon trout of an excellent flavor, taken at the mouth 
of the Umatalla ; of which the travellers obtained a most ac- 
ceptable supply. 

Finding that the road was on the north side of the river, Mr. 
Hunt crossed, and continued five or six days travelling rather 
slowly down along its banks, being much delayed by the stray- 
ing of the horses, and the attempts made by the Indians to 



244 ASTORIA. 

steal them. They frequently passed lodges, where they ob- 
tained fish and dogs. At one place the natives had just re- 
turned from hunting, and had brought back a large quantity 
of elk and deer meat, but asked so high a price for it as to be 
beyond the funds of the travellers, so they had to content 
themselves with dog's flesh. They had by this time, however, 
come to consider it very choice food, superior to horse flesh, 
and the minutes of the expedition speak rather exultingly now 
and then, of their having made a " famous repast," where this 
viand happened to be unusually plenty. 

They again learnt tidings of some of the scattered members 
of the expedition, supposed to be M'Kenzie, M'Lellan, and their 
men, who had preceded them down the river, and had over- 
turned one of their canoes, by which they lost many articles. 
All these floating pieces of intelligence of their fellow adven- 
turers, who had separated from them in the heart of the wil- 
derness, they received with eager interest. 

The weather continued to be temperate, marking the superior 
softness of the climate on this side of the mountains. For a 
great part of the time, the days were delightfully mild and clear, 
like the serene days of October, on the Atlantic borders. The 
country in general, in the neighborhood of the river, was a 
continual plain, low near the water, but rising gradually ; des- 
titute of trees, and almost without shrubs or plants of any 
kind, excepting a few willow bushes. After travelling about 
sixty miles, they came to where the country became very 
hilly and the river made its way between rocky banks and 
down numerous rapids. The Indians in this vicinity were 
better clad and altogether in more prosperous condition than 
those above, and, as Mr. Hunt thought, showed their con- 
sciousness of ease by something like sauciness of manner. 
Thus prosperity is apt to produce arrogance in savage as well 
as in civilized life. In both conditions man is an animal that 
will not bear pampering. 

From these people Mr. Hunt for the first time received vague 
but deeply interesting intelligence of that part of the enterprise 
which had proceeded by sea to the mouth of the Columbia. The 
Indians spoke of a number of white men who had built a large 
house at the mouth of the great river, and surrounded it with 
palisades. None of them had been down to Astoria themselves ; 
but rumors spread widely and rapidly from mouth to mouth 
among the Indian tribes, and are carried to the heart of the 
interior, by hunting parties and migratory hordes. 



ASTORIA. 245 

The establishment of a trading emporium at such a point, 
also, was calculated to cause a sensation to the most remote 
parts of the vast wilderness beyond the mountains. It, in a 
manner, struck the pulse of the great vital river, and vibrated 
up all its tributary streams. 

It is surprising to notice how well this remote tribe of sav- 
ages had learnt, through intermediate gossips, the private feel- 
ings of the colonists at Astoria ; it shows that Indians are not 
the incurious and indifferent observers that they have been 
represented. They told Mr. Hunt that the white people at the 
large house had been looking anxiously for many of their 
friends, whom they had expected to descend the great river ; 
and had been in much affliction, fearing that they were lost. 
Now, however, the arrival of him and his party would wipe 
away all their tears, and they would dance and sing for joy. 

On the 31st of January, Mr. Hunt arrived at the falls of the 
Columbia, and encamped at the village of Wish-ram, situated 
at the head of that dangerous pass of the river called "the 
long narrows." 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

Of the village of Wish-ram, the aborigines' fishing mart of 
the Columbia, we have given some account in an early chapter 
of this work. The inhabitants held a traffic in the productions 
of the fisheries of the falls, and their village was the trading 
resort of the tribes from the coast and from the mountains. 
Mr. Hunt found the inhabitants shrewder and more intelligent 
than any Indians he had met with. Trade had sharpened 
their wits, though it had not improved their honesty ; for they 
were a community of arrant rogues and freebooters. Their 
habitations comported with their circumstances, and were su- 
perior to any the travellers had yet seen west of the Rocky 
Mountains. In general the dwellings of the savages on the 
Pacific side of that great barrier, were mere tents and cabins 
of mats, or skins, or straw, the country being destitute of tim- 
ber. In Wish-ram, on the contrary, the houses were built of 
wood, with long sloping roofs. The floor was sunk about six 
feet below the surface of the ground, with a low door at the 
gable end, extremely narrow, and partly sunk. Through this 



^46 ASTORIA. 

it was necessary to crawl, and then to descend a short ladder. 
This inconvenient entrance was prohably for the purpose of 
defence ; there were loop-holes also under the eaves, apparently 
for the discharge of arrows. The houses were large, generally 
containing two or three families. Immediately within the 
door were sleeping places, ranged along the walls, like berths 
in a ship ; and furnished with pallets of matting. These ex- 
tended along one-half of the building ; the remaining half was 
appropriated to the storing of dried fish. 

The trading operations of the inhabitants of Wish-ram had 
given them a wider scope of information, and rendered their 
village a kind of headquarters of intelligence. Mr. Hunt was 
able, therefore, to collect more distinct tidings concerning the 
settlement of Astoria and its affairs. One of the inhabitants 
had been at the trading post established by David Stuart, on 
the Oakinagan, and had picked up a few words of English 
there. From him, Mr. Hunt gleaned various particulars about 
that establishment, as well as about the general concerns of the 
enterprise. Others repeated the name of Mr. M'Kay, the part- 
ner who perished in the massacre on board of the Tonquin, 
and gave some account of that melancholy affair. They said 
Mr. M'Kay was a chief among the white men, and had built a 
great house at the mouth of the river, but had left it and sailed 
away in a large ship to the northward, where he had been at- 
tacked by bad Indians in canoes. Mr. Hunt was startled by 
this intelligence, and made further inquiries. They informed 
him that the Indians had lashed their canoes to the ship, and 
fought until they had killed him and all his people. This is 
another instance of the clearness with which intelligence is 
transmitted from mouth to mouth among the Indian tribes. 
These tidings, though but partially credited by Mr. Hunt, filled 
his mind with anxious forebodings. He now endeavored to 
procure canoes in which to descend the Columbia, but none 
suitable for the purpose were to be obtained above the nar- 
rows ; he continued on, therefore, the distance of twelve miles, 
and encamped on the bank of the river. The camp was soon 
surrounded by loitering savages, who went prowling about, 
seeking what they might pilfer. Being baffled by the vigi- 
lance of the guard, they endeavored to compass their ends by 
other means. Toward evening, a number of warriors entered 
the camp in ruffling style; painted and dressed out as if for 
battle, and armed with lances, bows and arrows, and scalping 
knives. They informed Mr. Hunt that a party of thirty or 



ASTORIA. 247 

forty braves were coming up from a village below to attack 
the camp and carry off the horses, but that they were deter- 
mined to stay with him, and defend him. Mr. Hunt received 
them with great coldness, and, when they had finished their 
story, gave them a pipe to smoke. He then called up all 
hands, stationed sentinels in different quarters, but told them 
to keep as vigilant an eye within the camp as without. 

The warriors were evidently baffled by these precautions, 
and, having smoked their pipe, and vapored off their valor, 
took their departure. The farce, however, did not end here. 
After a little while the warriors returned, ushering in another 
savage, still more heroically arrayed. This they announced 
as the chief of the belligerent village, but as a great pacificator. 
His people had been furiously bent upon the attack, and would 
have doubtless carried it into effect, but this gallant chief had 
stood forth as the friend of the white men, and had dispersed 
the throng by his own authority and prowess. Having 
vaunted this signal piece of service, there was a significant 
pause; all evidently expecting some adequate reward. Mr. 
Hunt again produced the pipe, smoked with the chieftain and 
his worthy compeers ; but made no further demonstrations of 
gratitude. They remained about the camp all night, but at 
daylight returned, baffled and crestfallen, to their homes, with 
nothing but smoke for their pains. 

Mr. Hunt now endeavored to procure canoes, of which he 
saw several about the neighborhood, extremely well made, 
with elevated stems and sterns, some of them capable of car- 
rying three thousand pounds weight. He found it extremely 
difficult, however, to deal with these slippery people, who 
seemed much more inclined to pilfer. Notwithstanding a 
strict guard maintained round the camp, various implements 
were stolen, and several horses carried off. Among the latter 
we have to include the long-cherished steed of Pierre Dorion. 
From some wilful caprice, that worthy pitched his tent at 
some distance from the main body, and tethered his invaluable 
steed beside it, from whence it was abstracted in the night, to 
the infinite chagrin and mortification of the hybrid, interpreter. 

Having, after several days' negotiation, procured the requi- 
site number of canoes, Mr. Hunt would gladly have left this 
thievish neighborhood, but was detained until the 5th of Feb- 
ruary by violent head winds, accompanied by snow and rain. 
Even after he was enabled to get under way, he had still to 
struggle against contrary winds and tempestuous weather, 



248 ASTORIA. 

The current of the river, however, was in his favor ; having 
made a portage at the grand rapid, the canoes met with no 
further obstruction, and, on the afternoon of the 15th of Feb- 
ruary, swept round an intervening cape, and came in sight of 
the infant settlement of Astoria. After eleven months wan- 
dering in the wilderness, a great part of the time over track- 
less wastes, where the sight of a savage wigwam was a rarity, 
we may imagine the delight of the poor weather-beaten trav- 
ellers, at beholding the embryo establishment, with its maga- 
zines, habitations, and picketed bulwarks, seated on a high 
point of land, dominating a beautiful little bay, in which was 
a trim-built shallop riding quietly at anchor. A shout of joy 
burst from each canoe at the long-wished-for sight. They 
urged their canoes across the bay, and pulled with eagerness 
for shore, where all hands poured down from the settlement 
to receive and welcome them. Among the first to greet them 
on their landing, were some of their old comrades and fellow- 
sufferers, who, under the conduct of Eeed, M'Lellan, and 
M'Kenzie, had parted from them at the Caldron Linn. These 
had reached Astoria nearly a month previously, and, judging 
from their own narrow escape from starvation, had given up 
Mr. Hunt and his followers as lost. Their greeting was the 
more warm and cordial. As to the Canadian voyageurs, their 
mutual felicitations, as usual, were loud and vociferous, and it 
was almost ludicrous to behold these ancient " comrades" and 
" confreres," hugging and kissing each other on the river 
bank. When the first greetings were over, the different bands 
interchanged accounts of their several wanderings, after sepa- 
rating at Snake Eiver; we shall briefly notice a few of the 
leading particulars. It will be recollected by the reader, that 
a small exploring detachment had proceeded down the river, 
under the conduct of Mr. John Eeed, a clerk of the company : 
that another had set off under M'Lellan, and a third in a 
different direction, under M'Kenzie. After wandering for 
several days without meeting with Indians, or obtaining any 
supplies, they came together fortuitously among the Snake 
Eiver mountains, some distance below that disastrous pass or 
strait, which had received the appellation of the Devil's Scuttle 
Hole. 

When thus united, their party consisted of M'Kenzie, M'Lel- 
lan, Eeed, and eight men, chiefly Canadians. Being all in the 
same predicament, without horses, provisions, or information 
of any kind, they all agreed that it would be worse than useless 



ASTOBIA. 249 

to return to Mr. Hunt and encumber him with so many starv- 
ing men, and that their only course was to extricate themselves 
as soon as possible from this land of famine and misery, and 
make the best of their way for the Columbia. They accord- 
ingly continued to follow the downward course of Snake Elver; 
clambering rocks and mountains, and defying all the diffi- 
culties and dangers of that rugged defile, which subsequently, 
when the snows had fallen, was found impassable by Messrs. 
Hunt and Crooks. 

Though constantly near to the borders of the river, and for 
a great part of the time within sight of its current, one of their 
greatest sufferings was thirst. The river had worn its way 
in a deep channel through rocky mountains, destitute of brooks 
or springs. Its banks were so high and precipitous, that there 
was rarely any place where the travellers could get down to 
drink its waters. Frequently they suffered for miles the tor- 
ments of Tantalus ; water continually within sight, yet fevered 
with the most parching thirst. Here and there they met with 
rain-water collected in the hollows of the rocks, but more than 
once they were reduced to the utmost extremity ; and some 
of the men had recourse to the last expedient to avoid per- 
ishing 

Their sufferings from hunger were equally severe. They 
could meet with no game, and subsisted for a time on strips of 
beaver skin, broiled on the coals. These were doled out in 
scanty allowances, barely sufficient to keep up existence, and 
at length failed them altogether. Still they crept feebly on, 
scarce dragging one limb after another, until a severe snow- 
storm brought them to a pause. To struggle against it, in 
their exhausted condition, was impossible; so cowering under 
an impending rock at the foot of a steep mountain, they pre- 
pared themselves for that wretched fate which seemed in- 
evitable. 

At this critical juncture, when famine stared them in the 
face, M'Lellan casting up his eyes, beheld an ahsahta, or big- 
horn, sheltering itself under a shelving rock on the side of the 
hill above them. Being in a more active plight than any of 
his comrades, and an excellent marksman, he set off to get 
within shot of the animal. His companions watched his move- 
ments with breathless anxiety, for their lives depended upon 
his success. He made a cautious circuit ; scrambled up the 
hill with the utmost silence, and at length arrived, unper- 
ceived, within a proper distance. Here levelling his rifle he 



250 ASTORIA. 

took so sure an aim, that the bighorn fell dead on the spot ; a 
fortunate circumstance, for, to pursue it, if merely wounded, 
would have been impossible in his emaciated state. The de- 
clivity of the hill enabled him to roll the carcass down to his 
companions, who were too feeble to climb the rocks. They 
fell to work to cut it up ; yet exerted a remarkable self-denial 
for men in their starving condition, for they contented them- 
selves for the present with a soup made from the bones, re- 
serving the flesh for future repasts. This providential relief 
gave them strength to pursue their journey, but they were 
frequently reduced to almost equal straits, and it was only the 
smallness of their party, requiring a small supply of provi- 
sions, that enabled them to get through this desolate region 
with their lives. 

At length, after twenty-one days of toil and suffering, they 
got through these mountains, and arrived at a tributary stream 
of that branch of the Columbia called Lewis River, of which 
Snake Eiver forms the southern fork. In this neighborhood 
they met with wild horses, the first they had seen west of the 
Eocky Mountains. From hence they made their way to Lewis 
Eiver, where they fell in with a friendly tribe of Indians, who 
freely administered to their necessities. On this river they 
procured two canoes, in which they dropped down the stream 
to its confluence with the Columbia, and then down that river 
to Astoria, where they arrived haggard and emaciated, and 
perfectly in rags. 

Thus, all the leading persons of Mr. Hunt's expedition were 
once more gathered together, excepting Mr. Crooks, of whose 
safety they entertained but little hope, considering the feeble 
condition in which they had been compelled to leave him in the 
heart of the wilderness. 

A day was now given up to jubilee, to celebrate the arrival 
of Mr. Hunt and his companions, and the joyful meeting of the 
various scattered bands of adventurers at Astoria. The colors 
were hoisted ; the guns, great and small, were fired ; there was 
a feast of fish, of beaver, and venison, which relished well with 
men who had so long been glad to revel on horse flesh and dogs' 
meat; a genial allowance of grog was issued, to increase the 
general animation, and the festivities wound up, as usual, with 
a grand dance at night, by the Canadian voyageurs.* 

* The distance from St. Louis to Astoria, by the route travelled by Hunt and 
M'Kenzie, was upward of thirty-five hundred miles, though in a direct line it does 
not exceed eighteen hundred. 



ASTORIA. 251 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

The winter had passed away tranquilly at Astoria. The ap- 
prehensions of hostility from the natives had subsided ; indeed, 
as the season advanced, the Indians for the most part had dis- 
appeared from the neighborhood, and abandoned the sea-coast, 
so that, for want of their aid, the colonists had at times suffered 
considerably for want of provisions. The hunters belonging to 
the establishment made frequent and wide excursions, but with 
very moderate success. There were some deer and a few bears 
to be found in the vicinity, and elk in great numbers; the 
country, however, was so rough, and the woods so close and 
entangled, that it was almost impossible to beat up the game. 
The prevalent rains of winter, also, rendered it difficult for the 
hunter to keep his arms in order. The quantity ot game, 
therefore, brought in by the hunters was extremely scanty, 
and it was frequently necessary to put all hands on very 
moderate allowance. Toward spring, however, the fishing sea- 
son commenced— the season of plenty on the Columbia. About 
the beginning of February, a small kind of fish, about six inches 
long, called by the natives the uthlecan, and resembling the 
smelt, made its appearance at the mouth of the river. It is 
said to be of delicious flavor, and so fat as to burn like a candle, 
for which it is often used by the natives. It enters the river 
in immense shoals, like solid columns, often extending to the 
depth of five or more feet, and is scooped up by the natives 
with small nets at the end of poles. In this way they will soon 
fill a canoe, or form a great heap upon the river banks. These 
fish constitute a principal article of their food ; the women dry- 
ing them and stringing them on cords. As the uthlecan is 
only found in the lower part of the river, the arrival of it soon 
brought back the natives to the coast ; who again resorted to 
the factory to trade, and from that time furnished plentiful 
supplies of fish. 

The sturgeon makes its appearance in the river shortly after 
the uthlecan, and is taken in different ways, by the natives: 
sometimes they spear it ; but oftener they use the hook and 
fine, and the net. Occasionally, they sink a cord in the river 
by a heavy weight, with a buoy at the upper end, to keep it 



252 ASTORIA. 

floating. To this cord several hooks are attached by short 
lines, a few feet distant from each other, and baited with small 
fish. This apparatus is often set toward night, and by the next 
morning several sturgeon will be found hooked by it; for 
though a large and strong fish, it makes but little resistance 
when ensnared. 

The salmon, which are the prime fish of the Columbia, and 
as important to the piscatory tribes as are the buffaloes to the 
hunters of the prairies, do not enter the river until toward the 
latter part of May, from which time until the middle of Aug- 
ust, they abound, and are taken in vast quantities, either with 
the spear or seine, and mostly in shallow water. An inferior 
species succeeds, and continues from August to December. It 
is remarkable for having a double row of teeth, half an inch 
long and extremely sharp, from whence it has received the 
name of the dog- toothed salmon. It is generally killed with 
the spear in small rivulets, and smoked for winter provision. 
We have noticed in a former chapter the mode in which the 
salmon are taken and cured at the falls of the Columbia ; and 
put up in parcels for exportation. From these different fisher- 
ies of the river tribes, the establishment at Astoria had to de- 
rive much of its precarious supplies of provisions. 

A year's residence at the mouth of the Columbia, and various 
expeditions in the interior, had now given the Astorians some 
idea of the country. The whole coast is described as remarka- 
bly rugged and mountainous ; with dense forests of hemlock, 
spruce, white and red cedar, cotton-wood, white oak, white and 
swamp ash, willow, and a few walnut. There is likewise an 
undergrowth of aromatic shrubs, creepers, and clambering 
vines, that render the forests almost impenetrable; together 
with berries of various kinds, such as gooseberries, strawber- 
ries, raspberries, both red and yellow, very large and finely 
flavored whortleberries, cranberries, serviceberries, blackber- 
ries, currants, sloes, and wild and choke cherries. 

Among the flowering vines is one deserving of particular no- 
tice. Each flower is composed of six leaves or petals, about 
three inches in length, of a beautiful crimson, the inside spotted 
with white. Its leaves, of a fine green, are oval, and disposed 
by threes. This plant climbs upon the trees without attaching 
itself to them ; when it has reached the topmost branches it de- 
scends perpendicularly, and as it continues to grow, extends 
from tree to tree, until its various stalks interlace the grove 
like the rigging of a ship. The stems or trunks of this vine are 



ASTORIA. 253 

tougher and more flexible than willow, and are from fifty to 
one hundred fathoms in length. From the fibres, the Indians 
manufacture baskets of such close texture as to hold water. 

The principal quadrupeds that had been seen by the colonists 
in their various expeditions were the stag, fallow deer, hart, 
black and grizzly bear, antelope, ahsahta, or bighorn, beaver, 
sea and river otter, muskrat, fox, wolf, and panther, the latter 
extremely rare. The only domestic animals among the natives 
were horses and dogs. 

The country abounded with aquatic and land birds, such as 
swans, wild geese, brant, ducks of almost every description, 
pelicans, herons, gulls, snipes, curlews, eagles, vultures, crows, 
ravens, magpies, woodpeckers, pigeons, partridges, pheasants, 
grouse, and a great variety of singing birds. 

There were few reptiles; the only dangerous kinds were the 
rattlesnake, and one striped with black, yellow, and white, 
about four feet long. Among the lizard kind was one about 
nine or ten inches in length, exclusive of the tail, and three 
inches in circumference. The tail was round, and of the same 
length as the body. The head was triangular, covered with 
small square scales. The upper part of the body was likewise 
covered with small scales, green, yellow, black, and blue. 
Each foot had five toes, furnished with strong nails, probably 
to aid it in burrowing, as it usually lived underground on the 
plains. 

A remarkable fact, characteristic of the country west of the 
Rocky Mountains, is the mildness and equability of the 
climate. That great mountain barrier seems to divide the 
continent into different climates, even in the same degrees of 
latitude. The rigorous winters, and sultry summers, and all 
the capricious inequalities of temperature prevalent on the 
Atlantic side of the mountains, are but little felt on their 
western declivities. The countries between them and the 
Pacific are blessed with milder and steadier temperature, re- 
sembling the climates of parallel latitudes in Europe. In the 
plains and valleys but little snow falls throughout the winter, 
and usually melts while falling. It rarely lies on the ground 
more than two days at a time, except on the summits of the 
mountains. The winters are rainy rather than cold. The 
rains for five months, from the middle of October to the mid- 
dle of March, are almost incessant, and often accompanied 
by tremendous thunder and lightning. The winds prevalent at 
this season are from the south and southeast, which usually 



2§4 ASTORIA. 

bring rain. Those from the north to the southwest are the 
harbingers of fair weather and a clear sky. The residue of the 
year from the middle of March to the middle of October, an 
interval of seven months, is serene and delightful. There is 
scarcely any rain throughout this time, yet the face of the 
country is kept fresh and verdant by nightly dews, and occa- 
sionally by humid fogs in the mornings. These are not con- 
sidered prejudicial to health, since both the natives and the 
« whites sleep in the open air with perfect impunity. While 
' this equable and bland temperature prevails throughout the 
lower country, the peaks and ridges of the vast mountains by 
which it is dominated, are covered with perpetual snow. This 
renders them discernible at a great distance, shining at times, 
like bright summer clouds, at other times assuming the most 
aerial tints, and always forming brilliant and striking features 
in the vast landscape. The mild temperature prevalent 
throughout the country is attributed by some to the succession 
of winds from the Pacific Ocean, extending from latitude 
twenty degrees to at least fifty degrees north. These temper 
the heat of summer, so that in the shade no one is incommoded 
by perspiration ; they also soften the rigors of winter, and pro- 
duce such a moderation in the climate, that the inhabitants 
can wear the same dress throughout the year. 

The soil in the neighborhood of the sea-coast is of a brown 
color, inclining to red, and generally poor ; being a mixture of 
clay and gravel. In the interior, and especially in the valleys 
of the Eocky Mountains, the soil is generally blackish ; though 
sometimes yellow. It is frequently mixed with marl, and 
with marine substances in a state of decomposition. This 
kind of soil extends to a considerable depth, as may be per- 
ceived in the deep cuts made by ravines, and by the beds of 
rivers. The vegetation in these valleys is much more abun- 
dant than near the coast; in fact, it is in these fertile in- 
tervals, locked up between rocky sierras, or scooped out from 
barren wastes, that population must extend itself, as it were, 
in veins and ramifications, if ever the regions beyond the 
mountains should become civilized. 



ASTORIA. 255 



CHAPTER XL. 

A brief mention has already been made of the tribes or 
hordes existing abont the lower part of the Columbia at the 
time of the settlement; a few more particulars concerning 
them may be acceptable. The four tribes nearest to Astoria, 
and with whom the traders had most intercourse, were, as has 
heretofore been observed, the Chinooks, the Clatsops, the 
Wahkiacums, and the Cathlamets. The Chinooks resided 
chiefly along the banks of a river of the same name, running 
parallel to the sea-coast, through a low country studded with 
stagnant pools, and emptying itself into Baker's Bay, a few 
miles from Cape Disappointment. This was the tribe over 
which Comcomly, the one-eyed chieftain, held sway ; it boasted 
two hundred and fourteen fighting men. Their chief subsist- 
ence was on fish, with an occasional regale of the flesh of elk 
and deer, and of wild-fowl from the neighboring ponds. 

The Clatsops resided on both sides of Point Adams; they 
were the mere relics of a tribe which had been nearly swept 
off by the smallpox, and did not number more than one hun^ 
dred and eighty fighting men. 

The Wahkiacums or Waak-i-cums, inhabited the north side 
of the Columbia, and numbered sixty-six warriors. They and 
the Chinooks were originally the same ; but a dispute arising 
about two generations previous to the time of the settlement 
between the ruling chief and his brother Wahkiacum, the 
latter seceded, and with his adherents formed the present 
horde which continues to go by his name. In this way new 
tribes or clans are formed, and lurking causes of hostility 
engendered. 

The Cathlamets lived opposite to the lower village of the 
Wahkiacums, and numbered ninety-four warriors. 

These four tribes, or rather clans, have every appearance 
of springing from the same origin, resembling each other in 
person, dress, language, and manners. They are rather a 
diminutive race, generally below five feet five inches, with 
crooked legs and thick ankles; a deformity caused by their 
passing so much of their time sitting or squatting upon the 
calves of their legs, and their heels, in the bottom of their 



256 ASTORIA. 

canoes ; a favorite position, which they retain, even when on 
shore. The women increase the deformity by wearing tight 
bandages around the ankles, which prevent the circulation of 
the blood, and cause a swelling of the muscles of the leg. 

Neither sex can boast of personal beauty. Their faces are 
round, with small, but animated eyes. Their noses are broad 
and flat at top, and fleshy at the end, with large nostrils. 
They have wide mouths, thick lips, and short, irregular and 
dirty teeth. Indeed, good teeth are seldom to be seen among 
the tribes west of the Rocky Mountains, who live chiefly on 
fish. 

In the early stages of their intercourse with white men, 
these savages were but scantily clad. In summer time the 
men went entirely naked ; in the winter and in bad weather, 
the men wore a small robe, reaching to the middle of the thigh, 
made of the skins of animals, or of the wool of the mountain 
sheep. Occasionally, they wore a kind of mantle of matting, 
to keep off the rain ; but having thus protected the back and 
shoulders, they left the rest of the body naked. 

The women wore similar robes, though shorter, not reaching 
below the waist ; beside which, they had a kind of petticoat, or 
fringe, reaching from the waist to the knee, formed of the 
fibres of cedar bark, broken into strands, or a tissue of silk 
grass twisted and knotted at the ends. This was the usual 
dress of the women in summer; should the weather he in- 
clement, they added a vest of skins, similar to the robe. 

The men carefully eradicated every vestige of a beard, con- 
sidering it a great deformity. They looked with disgust at the 
whiskers and well-furnished chins of the white men, and in 
derision called them Long-beards. Both sexes, on the other 
hand, cherished the hair of the head, which with them is gen- 
erally black and rather coarse. They allowed it to grow to a 
great length, and were very proud and careful of it, some- 
times wearing it plaited, sometimes wound round the head in 
fanciful tresses. No greater affront could be offered them 
than to cut off their treasured locks. 

They had conical hats with narrow rims, neatly woven of 
bear-grass or of the fibres of cedar bark, interwoven with de- 
signs of various shapes and colors ; sometimes merely squares 
and triangles, at other times rude representations of canoes, 
with men fishing and harpooning. These hats were nearly 
waterproof, and extremely durable. 

The favorite ornaments of the men were collars of bears' 



ASTORIA. 257 

cfaws, the pi-Olid trophies of hunting exploits; while the wo- 
men and children wore similar decorations of elks' tusks. An 
intercourse with ihe white traders, however, soon effected a 
change in the toilets of both sexes, They became fond of 
arraying themselves in any article of civilized dress which 
they uould procure, and often made a most grotesque appear- 
ance. They adapted many articles of finery, also, to their 
own previous tastes. Botii sexes were fond of adorning them- 
selves with bracelets of iron, brass or copper. They were 
delighted, also, with blue and white beads, particularly the 
former, and wore broad tight bands of them round the waist 
and ankles ; large rolls of them round the neck, and pendants 
of them in the ears. The men, especially, who, in savage life 
carry a passion for personal decoration farther than the fe- 
males, did not think their gala equipments complete, unless 
they had a jewel of haiqua, or wampum, dangling at the nose. 
Thus arrayed, their hair besmeared with fish oil, and their 
bodies bedaubed with red clay, they considered themselves 
irresistible. 

When on warlike expeditions, they painted their faces and 
bodies in the most hideous and grotesque manner, according 
to the universal practice of American savages. Their arms 
were bows and arrows, spears, and war-clubs. Some wore a 
corslet formed of pieces of hard wood, laced together with 
bear-grass, so as to form a light coat of mail, pliant to the 
body ; and a kind of casque of cedar bark, leather, and bear- 
grass, sufficient to protect the head from an arrow or war club. 
A more complete article of defensive armor was a buff jerkin 
or shirt of great thickness, made of doublings of elk skin, and 
reaching to the feet, holes being left for the head and arms. 
This was perfectly arrow proof ; add to which, it was often en- 
dowed with charmed virtues, by the spells and mystic cere- 
monials of the medicine man, or conjurer. 

Of the peculiar custom, prevalent among these people of 
flattening the head, we have already spoken. It is one of 
those instances of human caprice, like the crippling of the feet 
of females in China, which are quite incomprehensible. This 
custom prevails principally among the tribes on the sea-coast, 
and about the lower parts of the rivers. How far it extends 
along the coast we are not able to ascertain. Some of the tribes, 
both north and south of the Columbia, practice it ; but they all 
speak the Chinook language, and probably originated from the 
same stock. As far as we can learn, the remoter tribes, which 



258 ASTORIA, 

speak an entirely different language, do not flatten the head 
This absurd custom declines, also, in receding from the shores 
of the Pacific ; few traces of it are to be found among the tribes 
of the Eocky Mountains, and after crossing the mountains it 
disappears altogether. Those Indians, therefore, about the 
head waters of the Columbia, and in the solitary mountain 
regions, who are often called Flatheads, must not be supposed 
to be characterized by this deformity. It is an appellation 
often given by the hunters east of the mountain chain, to all 
the western Indians, excepting the Snakes. 

The religious belief of these people was extremely limited 
and confined ; or rather, in all probability, their explanations 
were but little understood by their visitors. They had an idea 
of a benevolent and omnipotent spirit, the creator of all things. 
They represent him as assuming various shapes at pleasure, 
but generally that of an immense bird. He usually inhabits 
the sun, but occasionally wings his way through the aerial 
regions, and sees all that is doing upon earth. Should any- 
thing displease him he vents his wrath in terrific storms and 
tempests, the lightning being the flashes of his eye, and the 
thunder the clapping of his wings. To propitiate his favor 
they offer him annual sacrifices of salmon and venison, the 
first-fruits of their fishing and hunting. 

Beside this aerial spirit they believe in an inferior one, who 
inhabits the fire, and of whom they are in perpetual dread, as, 
though he possesses equally the power of good and evil, the 
evil is apt to predominate. They endeavor, therefore, to keep 
him in good humor by frequent offerings. He is supposed also 
to have great influence with the winged spirit, their sovereign 
protector and benefactor. They implore him, therefore, to act 
as their interpreter, and procure them all desirable things, 
such as success in fishing and hunting, abundance of game, 
fleet horses, obedient wives, and male children. 

These Indians have likewise their priests, or conjurers, or 
medicine men, who pretend to be in the confidence of the dei- 
ties, and the expounders and enforcers of their will. Each of 
these medicine men has his idols carved in wood, representing 
the spirits of the air and of the fire, under some rude and gro- 
tesque form of a horse, a bear, a beaver, or other quadruped, 
or that of bird or fish. These idols are hung round with amu- 
lets and votive offerings, such as beavers' teeth, and bears' and 
eagles' claws. 

When any chief personage is on his death-bed. or danger- 



ASTOBIA. 259 

ously ill, the medicine men are sent for. Each brings with 
him his idols, with which he retires into a canoe to hold a con- 
sultation. As doctors are prone to disagree, so these medicine 
men have now and then a violent altercation as to the malady 
of the patient, or the treatment of it. To settle this they beat 
their idols soundly against each other ; whichever first loses a 
tooth or a claw is considered as confuted, and his votary re- 
tires from the field. 

Polygamy is not only allowed, but considered honorable, and 
the greater number of wives a man can maintain, the more 
important is he in the eyes of the tribe. The first wife, how- 
ever, takes rank of all the others, and is considered mistress 
of the house. Still the domestic establishment is liable to 
jealousies and cabals, and the lord and master has much diffi- 
culty in maintaining harmony in his jangling household. 

In the manuscript from which we draw many of these partic- 
ulars, it is stated that he who exceeds his neighbors in the 
number of his wives, male children and slaves, is elected chief 
of the village ; a title to office which we do not recollect ever 
before to have met with. 

Feuds are frequent among these tribes, but are not very 
deadly. They have occasionally pitched battles, fought on 
appointed days, and at specified places, which are generally 
the banks of a rivulet. The adverse parties post themselves 
on the opposite sides of the stream, and at such distances that 
the battles often last a long while before any blood is shed. 
The number of killed and wounded seldom exceed half a dozen. 
Should the damage be equal on each side, the war is considered 
as honorably concluded ; should one party lose more than the 
other, it is entitled to a compensation in slaves or other prop- 
erty, otherwise hostilities are liable to be renewed at a future 
day. They are much given also to predatory inroads into the 
territories of their enemies, and sometimes of their friendly 
neighbors. Should they fall upon a band of inferior force, or 
upon a village, weakly defended, they act with the ferocity of 
true poltroons, slaying all the men, and carrying off the 
women and children as slaves. As to the property, it is 
packed upon horses which they bring with them for the pur- 
pose. They are mean and paltry as warriors, and altogether 
inferior in heroic qualities to the savages of the buffalo plains 
on the east side of the mountains. 

A great portion of their time is passed in revelry, music, 
dancing, and gambling. Their music scarcely deserves the 



260 ASTORIA. 

name ; the instruments being of the rudest kind. Their sing- 
ing is harsh and discordant ; the songs are chiefly extempore, 
relating to passing circumstances, the persons present, or any 
trifling object that strikes the attention of the singer. They 
have several kinds of dances, some of them lively and pleas- 
ing. The women are rarely permitted to dance with the men, 
but form groups apart, dancing to the same instrument and 
song. 

They have a great passion for play, and a variety of games. 
To such a pitch of excitement are they sometimes roused, that 
they gamble away everything they possess, even to their wives 
and children. They are notorious thieves, also, and proud of 
their dexterity. He who is frequently successful, gains much 
applause and popularity ; but the clumsy thief, who is detected 
in some bungling attempt, is scoffed at and despised, and 
sometimes severely punished. 

Such are a few leading characteristics of the natives in the 
neighborhood of Astoria. They appear to us inferior in many 
respects to the tribes east of the mountains, the bold rovers of 
the prairies ; and to partake much of the Esquimaux character; 
elevated in some degree by a more genial climate, and more 
varied style of living. 

The habits of traffic engendered at the cataracts of the 
Columbia, have had their influence along the coast. The Chi- 
nooks and other Indians at the mouth of the river, soon proved 
themselves keen traders, and in their early dealings with the 
Astorians, never hesitated to ask three times what they con- 
sidered the real value of an article. They were inquisitive, 
also, in the extreme, and impertinently intrusive; and were 
prone to indulge in scoffing and ridicule, at the expense of the 
strangers. 

In one thing, however, they showed superior judgment and 
self-command to most of their race; this was, in their ab- 
stinence from ardent spirits, and the abhorrence and disgust 
with which they regarded a drunkard. On one occasion, a 
son of Comcomly had been induced to drink freely at the fac- 
tory, and went home in a state of intoxication, playing all 
kinds of mad pranks, until he sank into a stupor, in which 
he remained for two days. The old chieftain repaired to his 
friend M'Dougal, with indignation flaming in his countenance, 
and bitterly reproached him for having permitted his son to 
degrade himself into a beast, and to render himself an object 
of scorn and laughter to his slave. 



ASTORIA. 261 



i 



CHAPTER XLI. 

As the spring opened, the little settlement of Astoria was in 
agitation, and prepared to send forth various expeditions. 
Several important things were to be done. It was necessary 
to send a supply of goods to the trading post of Mr. David 
Stuart, established in the preceding autumn on the Oakinagan. 
The cache, or secret deposit, made by Mr. Hunt at the Caldron 
Linn, was likewise to be visited, and the merchandise and 
other effects left there, to be brought to Astoria. A third 
object of moment was to send dispatches overland to Mr. Astor 
at New York, informing him of the state of affairs at the settle- 
ment, and the fortunes of the several expeditions. 

The task of carrying supplies to Oakinagan was assigned to 
Mr. Robert Stuart, a spirited and enterprising young man, 
nephew to the one who had established the post. The cache 
was to be sought out by two of the clerks, named Russell 
Farnham and Donald M'G-illes, conducted by a guide, and 
accompanied by eight men, to assist in bringing home the 
goods. 

As to the dispatches, they were confided to Mr. John Reed, 
the clerk, the same who had conducted one of the exploring 
detachments of Snake River. He was now to trace back his 
way across the mountains by the same route by which he had 
come, with no other companions or escort than Ben Jones, the 
Kentucky hunter, and two Canadians. As it was still hoped 
that Mr. Crooks might be in existence, and that Mr. Reed and 
his party might meet with him in the course of their route, 
they were charged with a small supply of goods and provisions, 
to aid that gentleman on his way to Astoria. 

When the expedition of Reed was made known, Mr. M'Lellan 
announced his determination to accompany it. He had long 
been dissatisfied with the smallness of his interest in the co- 
partnership, and had requested an additional number of 
shares; his request not being complied with, he resolved to 
abandon the country. M'Lellan was a man of singularly self- 
willed and decided character, with whom persuasion was 
useless; he was permitted, therefore, to take his own course 
without opposition. 



262 ASTORIA. 

As to Eeed, he set about preparing for his hazardous journey 
with the zeal of a true Irishman. He had a tin case made, in 
which the letters and papers addressed to Mr. Astor were care- 
fully soldered up. This case he intended to strap upon his 
shoulders, so as to bear it about with him, sleeping and wak- 
ing, in all changes and chances, by land or by water, and never 
to part with it but with his life ! 

As the route of these several parties would be the same for 
nearly four hundred miles up the Columbia, and within that 
distance would lie through the piratical pass of the rapids, and 
among the f reebooting tribes of the river, it was thought ad- 
visable to start about the same time, and to keep together. 
Accordingly, on the 22d of March they all set off, to the num- 
ber of seventeen men, in two canoes — and here we cannot but 
pause to notice the hardihood of these several expeditions, so 
insignificant in point of force, and severally destined to 
traverse immense wildernesses, where larger parties had ex- 
perienced so much danger and distress. When recruits were 
sought in the preceding year among experienced hunters and 
voyageurs at Montreal and St. Louis, it was considered dan- 
gerous to attempt to cross the Eocky Mountains with less than 
sixty men ; and yet here we find Reed ready to push his way 
across those barriers with merely three companions. Such is 
the fearlessness, the insensibility to danger, which men acquire 
by the habitude of constant risk. The mind, like the body, 
becomes callous by exposure. 

The little associated band proceeded up the river, under the 
command of Mr. Robert Stuart, and arrived early in the 
month of April at the Long Narrows, that notorious plunder- 
ing place. Here it was necessary to unload the canoes, and to 
transport both them and their cargoes to the head of the Nar- 
rows by land. Their party was too few in number for the pur- 
pose. They were obliged, therefore, to seek the assistance of 
the Cathlasco Indians, who undertook to carry the goods on 
their horses. Forward then they set, the Indians with their 
horses well freighted, and the first load convoyed by Reed and 
five men, well armed ; the gallant Irishman striding along at 
the head, with his tin case of dispatches glittering on his back. 
In passing, however, through a rocky and intricate defile, some 
of the freebooting vagrants turned their horses up a narrow 
path and galloped off, carrying with them two bales of goods 
and a number of small articles. To follow them was useless ; 
indeed, it was with much ado that the convoy got into port 
with the residue of the cargoes; for some of the guards were 



ASTORIA. 268 

pillaged of their knives and pocket-handkerchiefs, and the 
lustrous tin case of Mr. John Eeed was in imminent jeopardy. 

Mr. Stuart heard of these depredations, and hastened for- 
ward to the relief of the convoy, but could not reach them 
before dusk, by which time they had arrived at the village of 
Wish-ram, already noted for its great fishery, and the knavish 
propensities of its inhabitants. Here they found themselves 
benighted in a strange place, and surrounded by savages bent 
on pilfering, if not upon open robbery. Not knowing what 
active course to take, they remained under arms all night 
without closing an eye, and at the very first peep of dawn, 
when objects were yet scarce visible, everything was hastily 
embarked, and, without seeking to recover the stolen effects, 
they pushed off from shore; " glad to bid adieu," as they said, 
" to this abominable nest of miscreants." 

The worthies of Wish-ram, however, were not disposed to 
part so easily with their visitors. Their cupidity had been 
quickened by the plunder which they had already taken, and 
their confidence increased by the impunity with which their 
outrage had passed. They resolved, therefore, to take further 
toll of the travellers, and, if possible, to capture the tin case of 
dispatches ; which shining conspicuously from afar, and being 
guarded by John Reed with such especial care, must, as they 
supposed, be " a great medicine." 

Accordingly, Mr. Stuart and his comrades had not proceeded 
far in the canoes, when they beheld the whole rabble of Wish- 
ram stringing in groups along the bank, whooping and yelling, 
and gibbering in their wild jargon, and when they landed 
below the falls they were surrounded by upward of four hundred 
of these river ruffians, armed with bows and arrows, war 
clubs, and other savage weapons. These now pressed forward, 
with offers to carry the canoes and effects up the portage. Mr. 
Stuart declined forwarding the goods, alleging the lateness of 
the hour; but, to keep them in good humor, informed them, 
that, if they conducted themselves well, their offered services 
might probably be accepted in the morning; in the meanwhile 
he suggested that they might carry up the canoes. They ac- 
cordingly set off with the two canoes on their shoulders, ac- 
companied by a guard of eight men well armed, 

When arrived at the head of the falls, the mischievous spirit 
of the savages broke out, and they were on the point of de- 
stroying the canoes, doubtless with a view to impede the white 
men from carrying forward thsfy goods, and laying them open 



264 ASTORIA, 

to further pilfering. They were with some difficult j prevented 
from committing this outrage by the interference of an old 
man, who appeared to have authority among them ; and, in 
consequence of his harangue, the whole of the hostile band, 
with the exception of about fifty, crossed to the north side of 
the river, where they lay in wait, ready for further mischief. 

In the meantime, Mr. Stuart, who had remained at the foot 
of the falls with the goods, and who knew that the proffered 
assistance of the savages was only for the purpose of having 
an opportunity to plunder, determined, if possible, to steal a 
march upon them, and defeat their machinations. In the dead 
of the night, therefore, about one o'clock, the moon shining 
brightly, he roused his party, and proposed that they should 
endeavor to transport the goods themselves above the falls, 
before the sleeping savages could be aware of their operations. 
All hands sprang to the work with zeal, and hurried it on in 
the hope of getting all over before daylight. Mr. Stuart went 
forward with the first loads, and took his station at the head 
of the portage, while Mr. Eeed and Mr. M'Lellan remained at 
the foot to forward the remainder. 

The day dawned before the transportation was completed. 
Some of the fifty Indians who had remained on the south side 
of the river, perceived what was going on, and, feeling them- 
selves too weak for an attack, gave the alarm to those on the 
opposite side, upward of a hundred of whom embarked in 
several large canoes. Two loads of goods yet remained to be 
brought up. Mr. Stuart dispatched some of the people for one 
of the loads, with a request to Mr. Reed to retain with him as 
many men as he thought necessary to guard the remaining 
load, as he suspected hostile intentions on the part of the In- 
dians. Mr. Reed, however, refused to retain any of them, say- 
ing that M'Lellan and himself were sufficient to protect the 
small quantity that remained. The men accordingly departed 
with the load, while Reed and M'Lellan continued to mount 
guard over the residue. By this time, a number of the canoes 
had arrived from the opposite side. As they approached the 
shore, the unlucky tin box of John Reed, shining afar like the 
brilliant helmet of Euryalus, caught their eyes. No sooner did 
the canoes touch the shore, than they leaped forward on the 
rocks, set up a war-whoop, and sprang forward to secure the 
ghttering prize. Mr. M'Lellan, who was at the river bank, ad- 
vanced to guard the goods, when one of the savages attempted 
to hoodwink him with his buffalo robe with one hand, and to 



ASTORIA. 265 

stab him with the other. M'Lellan sprang back just far enough 
to avoid the blow, and raising his rifle, shot the ruffian through 
the heart. 

In the meantime, Keed, who with the want of forethought 
of an Irishman, had neglected to remove the leathern cover 
from the lock of his rifle, was fumbling at the fastenings, when 
he received a blow on the head with a war-club that laid him 
senseless on the ground. In a twinkling he was stripped of his 
rifle and pistols, and the tin box, the cause of all this onslaught, 
was borne off in triumph. 

At this critical juncture, Mr. Stuart, who had heard the 
war-whoop, hastened to the scene of action with Ben Jones, 
and seven others of the men. When he arrived, Reed was 
weltering in his blood, and an Indian standing over him and 
about to dispatch him with a tomahawk. Stuart gave the 
word, when Ben Jones levelled his rifle, and shot the mis- 
creant on the spot. The men then gave a cheer and charged 
upon the main body of the savages, who took to instant flight. 
Reed was now raised from the ground, and borne senseless 
and bleeding to the upper end of the portage. Preparations 
were made to launch the canoes and embark all in haste, when 
it was found that they were too leaky to be put in the water, 
and that the oars had been left at the foot of the falls. A 
scene of confusion now ensued. The Indians were whooping 
and yelling, and running about like fiends. A panic seized 
upon the men, at being thus suddenly checked, the hearts of 
some of the Canadians died within them, and two young men 
actually fainted away. The moment they recovered their 
senses Mr. Stuart ordered that they should be deprived of 
their arms, their under-garments taken off, and that a piece 
of cloth should be tied round their waists, in imitation of a 
squaw ; an Indian punishment for cowardice. Thus equipped, 
they were stowed away among the goods in one of the canoes. 
This ludicrous affair excited the mirth of the bolder spirits, 
even in the midst of their perils, and roused the pride of the 
wavering. The Indians having crossed back again to the 
north side, order was restored, some of the hands were sent 
back for the oars, others set to work to calk and launch the 
canoes, and in a little while all were embarked and were con- 
tinuing their voyage along the southern shore. 

No sooner had they departed, than the Indians returned to 
the scene of action, bore off their two comrades, who had been 
shot, one of whom was still living:, and returned to their vi]- 



266 ASTOBIA. 

lage. Here they killed two horses ; and drank the hot blood 
to give fierceness to their courage. They painted and arrayed 
themselves hideously for battle; performed the dead dance 
round the slain, and raised the war song of vengeance. Then 
mounting their horses, to the number of four hundred and 
fifty men, and brandishing their weapons, they set off along 
the northern bank of the river, to get ahead of the canoes, 
He in wait for them, and take a terrible revenge on the white 
men. 

They succeeded in getting some distance above the canoes 
without being discovered, and were crossing the river to post 
themselves on the side along which the white men were coast- 
ing, when they were fortunately descried. Mr. Stuart and his 
companions were immediately on the alert. As they drew 
near to the place where the savages had crossed, they ob- 
served them posted among steep and overhanging rocks, 
close along which the canoes would have to pass. Finding 
that the enemy had the advantage of the ground, the whites 
stopped short when within five hundred yards of them, and 
discharged and reloaded their pieces. They then made a fire 
and dressed the wounds of Mr. Reed, who had received five 
severe gashes in the head. This being done, they lashed the 
canoes together, fastened them to a rock at a small distance 
from the shore, and there awaited the menaced attack. 

They had not been long posted in this manner, when they 
saw a canoe approaching. It contained a war-chief of the 
tribe and three of his principal warriors. He drew near and 
made a long harangue, in which he informed them that they 
had killed one and wounded another of his nation ; that the 
relations of the slain cried out for vengeance, and he had 
been compelled to lead them to fight. Still he wished to 
spare unnecessary bloodshed, he proposed, therefore, that Mr. 
Reed, who, he observed, was little better than a dead man, might 
be given up to be sacrificed to the manes of the deceased war- 
rior. This would appease the fury of his friends ; the hatchet 
would then be buried, and all ohenceforward^would be friends. 
The answer was a stern refusal and a defiance, and the war- 
chief saw that the canoes were well prepared for a vigorous 
defence. He withdrew, therefore, and returning to his war- 
riors among the rocks held long deliberations. Blood for blood 
is a principle in Indian equity and Indian honor ; but though 
the inhabitants of Wish-ram were men of war, they were like- 
wise men of traffic, and it was suggested that honor for once 



AST&BIA. 267 

might give way to profit. A negotiation was accordingly 
opened with the white men, and after some diplomacy the 
matter was compromised for a blanket to cover the dead, and 
some tobacco to be smoked by the living. This being granted, 
the heroes of Wish-ram crossed the river once more, returned 
to their village to feast upon the horses whose blood they had 
so vain-gloriously drunk, and the travellers pursued their voy- 
age without further molestation. 

The tin case, however, containing the important dispatches 
for New York, was irretrievably lost; the very precaution 
taken by the worthy Hibernian to secure his missives, had, by 
rendering them conspicuous, produced their robbery. The ob- 
ject of his overland journey, therefore, being defeated, lie gave 
up the expedition. The whole party repaired with Mr. Robert 
Stuart to the estabhshment of Mr. David Stuart, on the Oaki- 
nagan River. After remaining here two or three days they all 
set out on their return to Astoria, accompanied by Mr. David 
Stuart. This gentleman had a large quantity of beaver skins 
at his establishment, but did not think it prudent to take them 
with him, fearing the levy of " black mail " at the falls. 

On their way down, when below the forks of the Columbia, 
they were hailed one day from the shore in English. Looking 
around, they descried two wretched men, entirely naked. 
They pulled to shore ; the men came up and made themselves 
known. They proved to be Mr. Crooks and his faithful fol- 
lower, John Day. 

The reader will recollect that Mr. Crooks, with Day and four 
Canadians, had been so reduced by famine and fatigue, that 
Mr. Hunt was obliged to leave them, in the month of Decem- 
ber, on the banks of the Snake River. Their situation was the 
more critical, as they were in the neighborhood of a band of 
Shoshonies, whose horses had been forcibly seized by Mr. 
Hunt's party for provisions. Mr. Crooks remained here 
twenty days, detained by the extremely reduced state of John 
Day, who was utterly unable to travel, and whom he would 
not abandon, as Day had been in his employ on the Missouri, 
and had always proved himself most faithful. Fortunately 
the Shoshonies did not offer to molest them. They had never 
before seen white men, and seemed to entertain some supersti- 
tions with regard to them, for, though they would encamp near 
them in the day time, they would move off with their tents in 
the night ; and finally disappeared, without taking leave. 

When Day was sufficiently recovered to travel, they kept 



2g§ AS1QRIA. 

feebly on, sustaining themselves as well as they could, until in 
the month of February, when three of the Canadians, fearful 
of perishing with want, left Mr. Crooks on a small river, on the 
road by which Mr. Hunt had passed in quest of Indians. Mr. 
Crooks followed Mr. Hunt's track in the snow for several days, 
sleeping as usual in the open air, and suffering all kinds of 
hardships. At length, coming to a low prairie, he lost every 
appearance of the "trail," and wandered during the remainder 
of the winter in the mountains, subsisting sometimes on horse- 
meat, sometimes on beavers and their skins, and a part of the 
time on roots. 

About the last of March, the other Canadian gave out, and 
was left with a lodge of Shoshonies ; but Mr. Crooks and John 
Day still kept on, and finding the snow sufficiently diminished, 
undertook, from Indian information, to cross the last moun- 
tain ridge. They happily succeeded, and afterward fell in with 
the Wallah- Wallahs, a tribe of Indians inhabiting the banks of 
a river of the same name, and reputed as being frank, hospita- 
ble, and sincere. They proved worthy of the character, for 
they received the poor wanderers kindly, killed a horse for 
them to eat, and directed them on their way to the Columbia. 
They struck the river about the middle of April, and advanced 
down it one hundred miles, until they came within about 
twenty miles of the falls. 

Here they met with some of the " chivalry" of that noted 
pass, who received them in a friendly way, and set food before 
them; but, while they were satisfying their hunger, perfid- 
iously seized their rifles. They then stripped them naked, and 
drove them off, refusing the entreaties of Mr. Crooks for a flint 
and steel of which they had robbed him; and threatening his 
life if he did not instantly depart. 

In this forlorn plight, still worse off than before, they re- 
newed their wanderings. They now sought to find their way 
back to the hospitable Wallah-Wallahs, and had advanced; 
eighty miles along the river, when fortunately, on the very 
morning that they were going to leave the Columbia, and 
strike inland, the canoes of Mr. Stuart hove in sight. 

It is needless to describe the joy of these poor men at once 
more finding themselves among countrymen and friends, or of 
the honest and hearty welcome with which they were received 
by their fellow adventurers. The whole party now continued 
down the river, passed all the dangerous places without inter- 
ruption, and arrived safely at Astoria on the 11th of May. 



ASTORIA. 269 



CHAPTER XLII. 

Having traced the fortunes of the two expeditions by sea 
and land to the mouth of the Columbia, and presented a view 
of affairs at Astoria, we will return for a moment to the master- 
spirit of the enterprise who regulated the springs of Astoria, at 
his residence in New York. 

It will be remembered that a part of the plan of Mr. Astor 
was to furnish the Russian fur establishment on the north-west 
coast with regular supplies, so as to render it independent of 
those casual vessels which cut up the trade and supplied the 
natives with arms. This plan had been countenanced by our 
own government, and likewise by Count Pahlem, the Russian 
Minister at Washington. As its views, however, were impor- 
tant and extensive, and might eventually affect a wide course 
of commerce, Mr. Astor was desirous of establishing a complete 
arrangement on the subject with the Russian American Fur 
Company, under the sanction of the Russian Government. 
For this purpose, in March, 1811, he dispatched a confidential 
agent to St. Petersburgh, fully empowered to enter into the 
requisite negotiations. A passage was given to this gentleman 
by the government of the United States, in the John Adams, 
one of its armed vessels, bound to a European port. 

The next step of Mr. Astor was, to dispatch the annual ship 
contemplated in his general plan. He had as yet heard nothing 
of the success of the previous expeditions, and had to proceed 
upon the presumption that everything had been effected ac- 
cording to his instructions. He accordingly fitted out a fine 
ship of four hundred and ninety tons, called the Beaver, and 
freighted her with a valuable cargo, destined for the factory, 
at the mouth of the Columbia, the trade along the coast, and 
the supply of the Russian establishment. In this ship em- 
barked a reinforcement, consisting of a partner, five clerks, 
fifteen American laborers, and six Canadian voyageurs. In 
choosing his agents for his first expedition, Mr. Astor had been 
obliged to have recourse to British subjects experienced in the 
Canadian fur trade ; henceforth it was his intention, as much 
is possible, to select Americans, so as to secure an ascendency 
of American influence in the management of the company, and 
to make it decidedly national. J 



270 ASTORIA. 

Accordingly, Mr. John Clarke, the partner, who took the 
tead in the present expedition, was a native of the United 
Itates, though he had passed much of his lif e in the north-west, 
paving been employed in the fur trade since the age of sixteen. 
Most of the clerks were young gentlemen of good connections 
in the American cities, some of whom embarked in the hope of 
gain, others through the mere spirit of adventure incident to 
youth. 

The instructions given by Mr. Astor to Captain Sowle, the 
commander of the Beaver, were, in some respects, hypotheti- 
cal, in consequence of the uncertainty resting upon the previ- 
ous steps of the enterprise. 

He was to touch at the Sandwich Islands, inquire about the 
fortunes of the Tonquin, and whether an establishment had 
been formed at the mouth of the Columbia. If so, he was to 
take as many Sandwich Islanders as his ship would accommo- 
date, and proceed hither. On arriving at the river, he was to 
observe great caution, for even if an establishment should have 
been formed, it might have fallen into hostile hands. He was, 
therefore, to put in as if by casualty or distress, to give him- 
self out as a coasting trader, and to say nothing about his ship 
being owned by Mr. Astor, until he had ascertained that every- 
thing was right. In that case, he was to land such part of his 
cargo as was intended for the establishment, and to proceed to 
New Archangel with the supplies intended for the Russian post 
at that place, where he could receive peltries in payment. 
With these he was to return to Astoria ; take in the furs col- 
lected there, and, having completed his cargo by trading along 
the coast, was to proceed to Canton. The captain received the 
same injunctions that had been given to Captain Thorn of the 
Tonquin, of great caution and circumspection in his inter- 
course with the natives, and that he should not permit more 
than one or two to be on board at a time. 

The Beaver sailed from New York on the 10th of October, 
1811, and reached the Sandwich Islands without any occur- 
rence of moment. Here a rumor was heard of the disastrous 
fate of the Tonquin. Deep solicitude was felt by every one on 
board for the fate of both expeditions, by sea and land. Doubts 
were entertained whether any establishment had been formed 
at the mouth of the Columbia, or whether any of the company 
would be found there. After much deliberation, the captain 
took twelve Sandwich Islanders on board, for the service of 



ASTORIA. 271 

the factory, should there be one in existence, and proceeded 
on his voyage. 

On the 6th of May he arrived off the mouth of the Colum- 
bia, and running as near as possible, fired two signal-guns. No 
answer was returned, nor was there any signal to be descried. 
Night coming on, the ship stood out to sea, and every heart 
drooped as the land *faded away. On the following morning 
they again ran in within four miles of the shore, and fired 
other signal-guns, but still without reply. A boat was then 
dispatched, to sound the channel, and attempt an entrance; 
but returned without success, there being a tremendous swell, 
and breakers. Signal-guns were fired again in the evening, 
but equally in vain, and once more the ship stood off to sea for 
the night. The captain now gave up all hope of finding any 
establishment at the place, and indulged in the most gloomy 
apprehensions. He feared his predecessors had been massacred 
before they had reached their place of destination ; or if they 
should have erected a factory, that it had been surprised and 
destroyed by the natives. 

In this moment of doubt and uncertainty, Mr. Clarke an- 
nounced his determination, in case of the worst, to found an 
establishment with the present party, and all hands bravely 
engaged to stand by him in the undertaking. The next morn- 
ing the ship stood in for the third time, and fired three signal- 
guns, but with little hope of reply. To the great joy of the 
crew, three distinct guns were heard in answer. The appre- 
hensions of all but Captain Sowle were now at rest. That cau- 
tious commander recollected the instructions given him by 
Mr. Astor, and determined to proceed with great circumspec- 
tion. He was well aware of Indian treachery and cunning. It 
was not impossible, he observed, that these cannon might have 
been fired by the savages themselves. They might have sur- 
prised the fort, massacred its inmates ; and these signal-guns 
might only be decoys to lure him across the bar, that they 
might have a chance of cutting him off, and seizing his 
vessel. 

At length a white flag was descried hoisted as a signal on 
Cape Disappointment. The passengers pointed to it in tri- 
umph, but the captain did not yet dismiss his doubts. A bea- 
con fire blazed through the night on the same place, but the 
captain observed that all these signals might be treacherous. 

On the following morning, May 9th, the vessel came to 
anchor off Cape Disappointment, outside of the bar. Toward 



272 ASTOBIA. 

noon an Indian canoe was seen making for the ship and all 
hands were ordered to be on the alert. A few moments after- 
ward, a barge was perceived following the canoe. The hopes 
and fears of those on board of the ship were in tumultuous 
agitation, as the boat drew nigh that was to let them know the 
fortunes of the enterprise, and the fate of their predecessors. 
The captain, who was haunted with the idea of possible treach- 
ery, did not suffer his curiosity to get the better of his caution, 
but ordered a party of his men under arms, to receive the visit- 
ors. The canoe came first alongside, in which were Comcomly 
and six Indians; in the barge were M'Dougal, M'Lellan, and 
eight Canadians. A little conversation with these gentlemen 
dispelled all the captain's fears, and the Beaver crossing the 
bar under their pilotage, anchored safely in Baker's Bay. 



CHAPTER XLIII. 



The arrival of the Beaver with a reinforcement and sup- 
plies, gave new life and vigor to affairs at Astoria. These 
were means for extending the operations of the establish- 
ment, and founding interior trading posts. Two parties were 
immediately set on foot to proceed severally -under the com- 
mand of Messrs. M'Kenzie and Clarke, and establish posts 
above the forks of the Columbia, at points where most rivalry 
and opposition were apprehended from the North-west Com- 
pany. 

A third party, headed by Mr. David Stuart, was to repair 
with supplies to the post of that gentleman on the Oakina- 
gan. In addition to these expeditions a fourth was necessary 
to convey dispatches to Mr. Astor, at New York, in place of 
those unfortunately lost by John Reed. The safe conveyance 
of these dispatches was highly important, as by them Mr. 
Astor would receive an account of the state of the factory, 
and regulate his reinforcements and supplies accordingly. 
The mission was one of peril and hardship, and required a 
man of nerve and vigor. It was confided to Robert Stuart, 
who, though he had never been across the mountains, and a 
very young man, had given proofs of his competency to the 
task, Four trusty and well-tried men, who had come over- 



ASTORIA. 273 

land in Mr. Hunt's expedition, were given as his guides and 
hunters. These were Ben Jones and John Day, the Kentuck- 
ians, and Andri Vallar and Francis Le Clerc, Canadians. 
Mr. M'Lellan again expressed his determination to take this 
opportunity of returning to the Atlantic States. In this he 
was joined by Mr. Crooks, who, notwithstanding all that he 
had suffered in the dismal journey of the preceding winter, 
was ready to retrace his steps and brave every danger and 
hardship, rather than remain at Astoria. This little handful 
of adventurous men we propose to accompany in its long 
and perilous peregrinations. 

The several parties we have mentioned all set off in company 
on the 29th of June, under a salute of cannon from the fort. 
They were to keep together, for mutual protection, through 
the piratical passes of the river, and to separate, on their dif- 
ferent destinations, at the forks of the Columbia. Their num- 
ber, collectively, was nearly sixty, consisting of partners and 
clerks, Canadian voyageurs, Sandwich Islanders, and Ameri- 
can hunters; and they embarked in two barges and ten 
canoes. 

They had scarcely got under way, when John Day, the Ken- 
tucky hunter, became restless and uneasy, and extremely 
wayward in his deportment. This caused surprise, for in 
general, he was remarkable for his cheerful, manly deport- 
ment. It was supposed that the recollection of past sufferings 
might harass his mind in undertaking to retrace the scenes 
where they had been experienced. As the expedition ad- 
vanced, however, his agitation increased. He began to talk 
wildly and incoherently, and to show manifest symptoms of 
derangement; 

Mr. Crooks now informed his companions that in his desolate 
wanderings through the Snake Eiver country during the pre- 
ceding winter, in which he had been accompanied by John 
Day, the poor fellow's wits had been partially unsettled by 
the sufferings and horrors through which they had passed, and 
he doubted whether they had ever been restored to perfect 
sanity. It was still hoped that this agitation of spirit might 
pass away as they proceeded; but, on the contrary, it grew 
more and more violent. His comrades endeavored to divert 
his mind and to draw him into rational conversation, but he 
only became the more exasperated, uttering wild and Inco- 
herent ravings. The sight of any of the natives put him in, an 
absolute fury, and he would heap on them the most opprobrt- 



274 ASTORIA. 

ous epithets; recollecting, no doubt, what he had suffered 
from Indian robbers. 

On the evening of the 2d of July he became absolutely fran- 
tic, and attempted to destroy himself. Being disarmed, he 
sank into quietude, and professed the greatest remorse for the 
crime he had meditated. He then pretended to sleep, and hav- 
ing thus lulled suspicion, suddenly sprang up, just before day- 
light, seized a pair of loaded pistols, and endeavored to blow- 
out his brains. In his hurry he fired too high, and the balls 
passed over his head. He was instantly secured and placed 
lander a guard in one of the boats. How to dispose of him was 
now the question, as it was impossible to keep him with the 
expedition. Fortunately Mr. Stuart met with some Indians 
accustomed to trade with Astoria. These undertook to con- 
duct John Day back to the factory, and deliver him there in 
safety. It was with the utmost concern that his comrades 
saw the poor fellow depart ; for, independent of his invaluable 
services as a first-rate hunter, his frank and loyal qualities had 
made him a universal favorite. It may be as well to add that 
the Indians executed their task faithfully, and landed John 
Day among his friends at Astoria; but his constitution was 
completely broken by the hardships he had undergone, and he 
died within a year. 

On the evening of the 6th' of July the party arrived at the 
piratical pass of the river, and encamped at the foot of the 
first rapid. The next day, before the commencement of the 
portage, the greatest precautions were taken to guard against 
lurking treachery, or open attack. The weapons of every man 
were put in order, and his cartridge-box replenished. Each 
one wore a kind of surcoat made of the skin of the elk, reach- 
ing from his neck to his knees, and answering the purpose of a 
shirt of mail, for it was arrow proof, and it could even resist a 
musket ball at the distance of ninety yards. Thus armed and 
equipped, they posted their forces in military style. Five of 
the officers took their stations at each end of the portage, 
which was between three and four miles in length ; a number 
of men mounted guard at short distances along the heights 
immediately overlooking the river, while the residue, thus 
protected from surprise, employed themselves below in drag- 
ging up the barges and canoes, and carrying up the goods 
along the narrow margin of the rapids. With these precau- 
tions they all passed unmolested. The only accident that hap- 
pened was the upsetting of one of the canoes, by which some 



ASTORIA. 275 

of the goods sunk, and others floated down the stream. The 
alertness and rapacity of the hordes which infest these rapids, 
were immediately apparent. They pounced upon the floating 
merchandise with the keenness of regular wreckers. A bale 
of goods which landed upon one of the islands was immediately 
ripped open, one half of its contents^, divided among the cap= 
tives, and the other half secreted in a lonely hut in a deep 
ravine. Mr. Eobert Stuart, however, set out in a canoe with 
five men and an interpreter, ferreted out the wreckers in their 
retreat, and succeeded in wresting from them their booty. 

Similar precautions to those already mentioned, and to a still 
greater extent, were observed in passing the long narrow,s, and 
the falls, where they would be exposed to the depredations of 
the chivalry of Wish-ram, and its freebooting neighborhood. 
In fact, they had scarcely set their first watch one night, when 
an alarm of "Indians !" was given. " To arms !" was the cry, 
and every man was at his post in an instant. The alarm was 
explained ; a war party of Shoshonies had surprised a canoe of 
the natives just below the encampment, had murdered four 
men and two women, and it was apprehended they would 
attack the camp. The boats and canoes were immediately 
hauled up, a breastwork was made of them, and the packages, 
forming three sides of a square, with the river in the rear, and 
thus the party remained fortified throughout the night. 

The dawn, however, dispelled the alarm; the portage was 
conducted in peace; the vagabond warriors of the vicinity 
hovered about them while at work, but were kept at a wary 
distance. They regarded the loads of merchandise with wist- 
ful eyes, but seeing the "long-beards" so formidable in num- 
ber, and so well prepared for action, they made no attempt, 
either by open force or sly pilfering to collect their usual toll, 
but maintained a peaceful demeanor, and were afterward re- 
warded for their good conduct with presents of tobacco. 

Fifteen days were consumed in ascending from the foot of 
the first rapid, to the head of the falls, a distance of about 
eighty miles, but full of all kinds of obstructions. Having 
happily accomplished these difficult portages, the party, on 
the 19th of July, arrived at a smoother part of the river, and 
pursued their way up the stream with greater speed and 
facility. 

They were now in the neighborhood where Mr. Crooks and 
John Day had been so perfidiously robbed and stripped a few 
months previously/ when confiding in the proffered hospitality 



276 ASTOBIA. 

of a ruffian band. On landing at night, therefore, a vigilant 
guard was maintained about the camp. On the following 
morning a number of Indians made their appearance, and 
came prowling round the party while at breakfast. To his 
great delight Mr. Crooks recognized among them two of the 
miscreants by whom he had been robbed. They were instantly 
seized, bound hand and foot, and thrown into one of the canoes. 
Here they lay in doleful fright, expecting summary execution. 
Mr. Crooks, however, was not of a revengeful disposition, and 
agreed to release the culprits as soon as the pillaged property 
should be restored. Several savages immediately started off 
in different directions, and before night the rifles of Crooks 
and Day were produced ; several of the smaller articles pilfered 
from them, however, could not be recovered. 

The bands of the culprits were then removed, and they lost 
no time in taking their departure, still under the influence of 
abject terror, and scarcely crediting their senses that they had 
escaped the merited punishment of their offences. 

The country on each side of the river now began to assume a 
different character. The hills, and cliffs, and forests disap- 
peared; vast sandy plains, scantily clothed here and there 
with short tufts of grass, parched by the summer sun, stretched 
far away to the north and south. The river was occasionally 
obstructed with rocks and rapfds, but often there were smooth, 
placid intervals, where the current was gentle, and the boat- 
men were enabled to lighten their labors with the assistance of 
the sail. 

The natives in this part of the river resided entirely on the 
northern side. They were hunters, as well as fishermen, and 
had horses in plenty. Some of these were purchased by the 
party, as provisions, and killed on the spot, though they occa- 
sionally found a difficulty in procuring fuel wherewith to cook 
them. One of the greatest dangers that beset the travellers in 
this part of their expedition, was the vast number of rattle- 
snakes which infested the rocks about the rapids and portages, 
and on which the men were in danger of treading. They were 
often found, too, in quantities about the encampments. In one 
place a nest of them lay coiled together, basking in the sun 
Several guns loaded with shot were discharged at them, and 
thirty-seven killed and wounded. To prevent any unwelcome 
visits from them in the night, tobacco was occasionally strewed 
around the tents, a weed for which they have a very proper 
abhorrence. 



AST0RIA. 277 

On the 28th of July, the travellers arrived at the mouth of 
the Wallah-Wallah, a bright, clear stream, about six feet deep 
and fifty -five yards wide, which flows rapidly over a bed of 
sand and gravel, and throws itself into the Columbia, a few 
miles below Lewis River. Here the combined parties that had 
thus far voyaged together were to separate, each for its partic- 
ular destination. 

On the banks of the Wallah-Wallah lived the hospitable 
tribe of the same name who had succored Mr. Crooks and John 
Day in the time of their extremity. No sooner did they hear 
of the arrival of the party, than they hastened to greet them. 
They built a great bonfire on the bank of the river, before the 
camp, and men and women danced round it to the cadence of 
their songs, in which they sang the praises of the white men, 
and welcomed them to their country. 

On the following day a traffic was commenced, to procure 
horses for such of the party as intended to proceed by land. 
The Wallah- Wallahs are an equestrian tribe. The equipments 
of their horses were rude and inconvenient. High saddles, 
roughly made of deer skin, stuffed with hair, which chafe the 
horse's back, and leave it raw ; wooden stirrups with a thong 
of raw hide wrapped round them ; and for bridles they have 
cords of twisted horse-hair, which they tie round the under 
jaw. They are, like most Indians, bold but hard riders, and 
when on horseback gallop about the most dangerous places, 
without fear for themselves, or pity for their steeds. 

From these people Mr. Stuart purchased twenty horses for 
his party ; some for the saddle, and others to transport the bag- 
gage. He was fortunate in procuring a noble animal for his 
own use, which was praised by the Indians for its great speed 
and bottom, and a high price set upon it. No people under- 
stand better the value of a horse than these equestrian tribes ; 
and nowhere is speed a greater requisite, as they frequently 
engage in the chase of the antelope, one of the fleetest of ani- 
mals. Even after the Indian who sold this boasted horse to 
Mr. Stuart had concluded his bargain, he lingered about the 
animal, seeming loth to part from him, and to be sorry for 
what he had done. 

A day or two were employed by Mr. Stuart in arranging 
packages and pack-saddles, and making other preparations for 
his long and arduous journey. His party, by the loss of John 
Day, was now reduced to six, a small number for such an 
expedition. They were young men, however, full of courage, 



278 ASTQRIA. 

health, and good spirits, and stimulated, rather than appalled 
by danger. 

On the morning of the 31st of July, all preparations being 
concluded, Mr. Stuart and his little band mounted their steeds 
and took a farewell of their fellow-travellers, who gave them 
three hearty cheers as they set out on their dangerous journey. 
The course they took was to the south-east, toward the fated 
region of the Snake River. At an immense distance rose a 
chain of craggy mountains which they would have to traverse ; 
they were the same among which the travellers had experi- 
enced such sufferings from cold during the preceding winter, 
and from their azure tints, when seen at a distance, had re- 
ceived the name of the Blue Mountains. 



CHAPTER XLIV. 



In retracing the route which had proved so disastrous to Mr. 
Hunt's party during the preceding winter, Mr. Stuart had 
trusted, in the present more favorable season, to find easy trav- 
elling and abundant supplies. On these great wastes and 
wilds, however, each season has its peculiar hardships. The 
travellers had not proceeded far, before they found themselves 
among naked and arid hills, with a soil composed of sand and 
clay, baked and brittle, that to all appearance had never been 
visited by the dews of heaven. 

Not a spring, or pool, or running stream was to be seen ; the 
sunburnt country was seamed and cut up by dry ravines, the 
beds of winter torrents serving only to balk the hopes of man 
and beast, with the sight of dusty channels where water had 
once poured along in floods. 

For a long summer day they continued onward without 
halting ; a burning sky above their heads, a parched desert be 
neath their feet, with just wind enough to raise the light sand 
from the knolls, and envelop them in stifling clouds. The suf- 
ferings from thirst became intense; a fine young dog, their 
only companion of the kind, gave out, and expired. Evening 
drew on without any prospect of relief, and they were almost 
reduced to despair, when they descried something that looked 
like a fringe of forest along the horizon. All were inspired. 



ASTORIA. 2:9 

vnth new hope, for uufey knew that on these arid wastes, in tie 
neighborhood of trees, there is alwavs waffe^ 

They now quickened their pace; the horses seemed to un- 
derstand their motives, and to partake of their anticipa- 
tions ; for, though before almost ready to give out, they now 
required neither whip nor spur. With all their exertions it 
was late in the night before they drew near to the trees. As 
they approached, they heard with transport, the rippling of a 
shallow stream. No sooner did the refreshing sound reach the 
ears of the horses, than the poor animals snuffed the air, 
rushed forward with ungovernable eagerness, and plunging 
their muzzles into the water, drank until they seemed in dan- 
ger of bursting. Their riders had but little more discretion, 
and required repeated draughts to quench their excessive 
thirst. Their weary march that day had been forty-five miles, 
over a track that might rival the deserts of Africa for aridity. 
Indeed, the sufferings of the traveller on these American 
deserts is frequently more severe than in the wastes of Africa 
or Asia, from being less habituated and prepared to cope with 
them. 

On the banks of this blessed stream the travellers encamped 
for the night; and so great had been their fatigue, and so 
sound and sweet was their sleep, that it was a late hour the 
next morning before they awoke. They now recognized the 
little river to be the Umatalla, the same on the banks of which 
Mr. Hunt and his followers had arrived after their painful 
struggle through the Blue Mountains, and experienced such a 
kind relief in the friendly camp of the Sciatogas. 

That range of Blue Mountains now extended in the distance 
before them ; they were the same among which poor Michael 
Carriere had perished. They form the south-east boundary of 
the great plains along the Columbia, dividing the waters of its 
main stream from those of Lewis River. They are, in fact, a 
part of a long chain, which stretches over a great extent of 
country, and includes in its links the Snake River Mountains. 

The day was somewhat advanced before the travellers left 
the shady banks of the Umatalla. Their route gradually took 
i)hem among the Blue Mountains, which assumed the most 
rugged aspect on a near approach. They were shagged with 
dense and gloomy forests, and cut up by deep and precipitous 
ravines, extremely toilsome to the horses. Sometimes the 
travellers had to follow the course of some brawling stream, 
with a broken, rocky bed, which the shouldering cliffs and 



280 ASTOBIA. 

promontories on either side obliged them frequently to cross 
and recross. For some miles they struggled forward through 
these savage and darkly wooded defiles, when all at once the 
whole landscape changed, as if by magic. The rude moun- 
tains and rugged ravines softened into beautiful hills, and in- 
tervening meadows, with rivulets winding through fresh herb- 
age, and sparkling and murmuring over gravelly beds, the 
whole forming a verdant and pastoral scene, which derived 
additional charms from being locked up in the bosom of such 
a hard-hearted region. 

Emerging from the chain of Blue Mountains, they descended 
upon a vast plain, almost a dead level, sixty miles in circum- 
ference, of excellent soil, with fine streams meandering through 
it in every direction, their courses marked out in the wide 
landscape by serpentine lines of cotton-wood trees, and wil- 
lows, which fringed their banks, and afforded sustenance to 
great numbers of beavers and otters. 

In traversing this plain, they passed, close to the skirts of 
the hills, a great pool of water, three hundred yards in circum- 
ference, fed by a sulphur spring, about ten feet in diameter, 
boiling up in one corner. The vapor from this pool was ex- 
tremely noisome, and tainted the air for a considerable dis- 
tance. The place was much frequented by elk, which were 
found in considerable numbers in the adjacent mountains, and 
their horns, shed in the spring time, were strewed in ever} 
direction around the pond. 

On the 20th of August, they reached the main body of Wood - 
ville Creek, the same stream which Mr. Hunt had ascended 
in the preceding year, shortly after his separation from Mr. 
Crooks. 

On the banks of this stream they saw a herd of nineteen an- 
telopes ; a sight so unusual in that part of the country, that at 
first they doubted the evidence of their senses. They tried by 
every means to get within a shot of them, but they were too 
shy and fleet, and after alternately bounding to a distance, 
and then stopping to gaze with capricious curiosity at the 
hunter, they at length scampered out of sight. 

On the 12th of August the travellers arrived on the banks of 
Snake Eiver, the scene of so many trials and mishaps to all of 
the present party excepting Mr. Stuart. They struck the river 
just above the place where it entered the mountains, through 
which Messrs. Stuart and Crooks had vainly endeavored t© 
find a passage. The river was here a rapid stream., four hun 



ASTORIA. 28? 

dred yards in width, with high sandy banks, and here and 
there a scanty growth of willow. Up the southern side of the 
river they now bent their course, intending to visit the caches 
made by Mr. Hunt at the Caldron Linn. 

On the second evening a solitary Snake Indian visited their 
camp, at a late hour, and informed them that there was a 
white man residing at one of the cantonments of his tribe, 
about a day's journey higher up the river. It was immedi- 
ately concluded that he must be one of the poor fellows of Mr. 
Hunt's party, who had given out, exhausted by hunger and 
fatigue, in the wretched journey of the preceding winter. All 
present, who had borne a part in the sufferings of that jour- 
ney, were eager now to press forward, and bring relief to a 
lost comrade. Early the next morning, therefore, they pushed 
forward with unusual alacrity. For two days, however, did 
they travel without being able to find any trace of such a 
straggler. 

On the evening of the second day, they arrived at a place 
where a large river came in from the east, which was re- 
nowned among all the wandering hordes of the- Snake nation 
for its salmon fishery, that fish being taken in incredible quan- 
tities in this neighborhood. Here, therefore, during the fish- 
ing season, the Snake Indians resort from far and near, to lay 
in their stock of salmon, which, with esculent roots, forms the 
principal food of the inhabitants of these barren regions. 

On the banks of a small stream emptying into Snake River 
at this place, Mr. Stuart found an encampment of Shoshonies. 
He made the usual inquiry of them concerning the white man 
of whom he had received intelligence. No such person was 
dwelling among them, but they said there were white men 
residing with some of their nation on the opposite side of the 
river. This was still more animating information. Mr. 
Crooks now hoped that these might be the men of his party, 
who, disheartened by perils and hardships, had preferred to 
remain among the Indians. Others thought they might be 
Mr. Miller and the hunters who had left the main body at 
Henry's Fort, to trap among the mountain streams. Mr. 
Stuart halted, therefore, in the neighborhood of the Shoshonie 
lodges, and sent an Indian across the river to seek out the 
white men in question, and bring them to his camp. 

The travellers passed a restless, miserable night. The place 
swarmed with myriads of mosquitoes, which, with their stings 
and their music, set all sleep at defiance. The morning dawn 



282 ASTORIA. 

found them in a feverish, irritable mood, and their spleen was 
completely aroused by the return of the Indian without any 
intelligence of the white men. They now considered them- 
selves the dupes of Indian falsehoods, and resolved to put no 
more confidence in Snakes. They soon, however, forgot this 
resolution. In the course of the morning an Indian came gal- 
loping after them; Mr. Stuart waited to receive him; no 
sooner had he come up, than, dismounting and throwing his 
arms round the neck of Mr. Stuart's horse, he began to kiss 
and caress the animal, who on his part seemed by no means 
surprised or displeased with his salutation. Mr. Stuart, who 
valued his horse highly, was somewhat annoyed by these tran- 
sports; the cause of them was soon explained. The Snake said 
the horse had belonged to him, and been the best in his posses- 
sion, and that it had been stolen by the Wallah-Wallahs. Mr. 
Stuart was by no means pleased with this recognition of his 
steed, nor disposed to admit any claim on fhe part of its 
ancient owner. In fact, it was a noble animal, admirably 
shaped, of free and generous spirit, graceful in movement, and 
fleet as an antelope. It was his intention, if possible, to take 
the horse to New York, and present him to Mr. Astor. 

In the meantime some of the party came up, and immedi- 
ately recognized in the Snake an old friend and ally. He was 
in fact one of the two guides who had conducted Mr. Hunt's 
party, in the preceding autumn, across Mad Eiver Mountain to 
Fort Henry, and who subsequently departed with Mr. Miller and 
his fellow trappers, to conduct them to a good trapping ground. 
The reader may recollect that these two trusty Snakes were 
engaged by Mr. Hunt to return and take charge of the horses 
which the party intended to leave at Fort Henry, when they 
should embark in canoes. 

The party now crowded round the Snake, and began to ques- 
tion him with eagerness. His replies were somewhat vague, 
and but partially understood. He told a long story about the 
horses, from which it appeared that they had been stolen by 
various wandering bands, and scattered in different directions. 
The cache, too, had been plundered, and the saddles and other 
equipments carried off. His information concerning Mr. 
Miller and his comrades, was not more satisfactory. They had 
trapped for some time about the upper streams, but had fallen 
into the hands of a marauding party of Crows, who had robbed 
them of horses, weapons, and everything. 

Further questioning brought forth further intelligence, but 



ASTORIA. 283 

all of a disastrous kind. About ten days previously, he had 
met with three other white men, in very miserable plight, 
having one horse each, and but one rifle among them. They 
also had been plundered and maltreated by the Crows, those 
universal freebooters. The Snake endeavored to pronounce 
the names of these three men, and as far as his imperfect 
sounds could be understood, they were supposed to be three of 
the party of four hunters, viz., Carson, St. Michael, Detaye, 
and Delaunay, who were detached from Mr. Hunt's party on 
the 28th of September, to trap beaver on the head waters of the 
Columbia. 

In the course of conversation, the Indian informed them that 
the route by which Mr. Hunt had crossed the Eocky Moun- 
tains was very bad and circuitous, and that he knew one 
much shorter and easier. Mr. Stuart urged him to accompany 
them as guide, promising to reward him with a pistol with 
powder and ball, a knife, an awl, some blue beads, a blanket, 
and a looking-glass. Such a catalogue of riches was too tempt- 
ing to be resisted ; beside the poor Snake languished after the 
prairies ; he was tired, he said, of salmon, and longed for buf- 
falo meat, and to have a grand buff alo hunt beyond the moun- 
tains. He departed, therefore, with all speed, to get his arms 
and equipment for the journey, promising to rejoin the party 
the next day. He kept his word, and, as he no longer said 
anything to Mr. Stuart on the subject of the pet horse, they 
journeyed very harmoniously together ; though now and then, 
the Snake would regard his quondam steed with a wistful 
eye. 

They had not travelled many miles, when they came to a 
great bend in the river. Here the Snake informed them that, 
by cutting across the hills they would save many miles dis- 
tance. The route across, however, would be a good day's jour- 
ney. He advised them, therefore, to encamp here for the 
night, and set off early in the morning. They took his advice, 
though they had come but nine miles that day. 

On the following morning they rose, bright and early, to as- 
cend the hills. On mustering their little party, the guide was 
missing. They supposed him to be somewhere in the neigh- 
borhood, and proceeded to collect the horses. The vaunted 
steed of Mr. Stuart was not to be found. A suspicion flashed 
upon his mind. Search for the horse of the Snake/ — he like- 
wise was gone— the tracks of two horses, one after the other, 
were found, making off from the camp. They appeared as if 



284 ASTOBIA. 

one horse had been mounted, and the other led. They were 
traced for a few miles above the camp, until they both crossed 
the river. It was plain the Snake had taken an Indian mode of 
recovering his horse, having quietly decamped with him in 
the night. 

New vows were made never more to trust in Snakes or any 
other Indians. It was determined, also, to maintain, hereafter ? 
the strictest vigilance over their horses, dividing the night into 
three watches, and one person mounting guard at a time. 
They resolved, also, to keep along the river, instead of taking 
the short cut recommended by the fugitive Snake, whom they 
now set down for a thorough deceiver. The heat of the 
weather was oppressive, and their horses were, at times, ren- 
dered almost frantic by the stings of the prairie flies. The 
nights were suffocating, and it was almost impossible to sleep, 
from the swarms of mosquitoes. 

On the 20th of August they resumed their march, keeping 
along the prairie parallel to Snake River. The day was sultry, 
and some of the party, being parched with thirst, left the line 
of march, and scrambled down the bank of the river to drink. 
The bank was overhung with willows, beneath which, to their 
surprise, they beheld a man fishing. No sooner did he see 
them, than he uttered an exclamation of joy. It proved to be 
John Hoback, one of their lost comrades. They had scarcely 
exchanged greetings, when three other men came out from 
among the willows. They were Joseph Miller, Jacob Rezner, 
and Robinson, the scalped Kentuckian, the veteran of the 
Bloody Ground. 

The reader will perhaps recollect the abrupt and wilful man- 
ner in which Mr. Miller threw up his interest as a partner of 
the company, and departed from Fort Henry, in company with 
these three trappers, and a fourth, named Cass. He may like- 
wise recognize in Robinson, Rezner, and Hoback, the trio of 
Kentucky hunters who had originally been in t*ie service of 
Mr. Henry, and whom Mr. Hunt found floating down the Mis- 
souri, on their way homeward ; and prevailed upon, once more, 
to cross the mountains. The hagg«ard looks and naked condi- 
tion of these men proved how much they had suffered. After 
leaving Mr. Hunt's party, they had made their way about two 
hundred miles to the southward, where they trapped beaver on 
a river, which, according to their account, discharged itself 
into the ocean to the south of the Columbia, but which we ap- 
prehend to be Bear River, a stream emptying itself into Lake 



ASTORIA. 285 

Bonneville, an immense body of salt water, west of the Rocky 
Mountains. 

Having collected a considerable quantity of beaver skins, 
they made them into packs, loaded their horses, and steered 
two hundred miles due east. Here they came upon an encamp- 
ment of sixty lodges of Arapahays, an outlawed band of the 
Arapahoes, and notorious robbers. These fell upon the poor 
trappers ; robbed them of their peltries, most of their clothing, 
and several of their horses. They were glad to escape with their 
lives, and without being entirely stripped, and after proceed- 
ing about fifty miles further, made their halt for the winter. 

Early in the spring, they resumed their wayfaring, but were 
unluckily overtaken by the same ruffian horde, who levied still 
further contributions, and carried off the remainder of their 
horses, excepting two. With these they continued on,' suffer- 
ing the greatest hardships. They still retained rifles and am- 
munition, but were in a desert country, where neither bird 
nor beast was to be found. Their only chance was to keep 
along the rivers and subsist by fishing ; but, at times, no fish 
were to be taken, and then their sufferings were horrible. One 
of their horses was stolen among the mountains by the Snake 
Indians; the other, they said, was carried off by Cass, who, 
according to their account, i l villainously left them in their ex- 
tremities." Certain dark doubts and surmises were afterward 
circulated concerning the fate of that poor fellow, which, il 
true, showed to what a desperate state of famine his comrades 
had been reduced. 

Being now completely unhorsed, Mr. Miller and his thre* 
companions wandered on foot for several hundred miles, en- 
during hunger, thirst, and fatigue, while traversing the barren 
wastes which abound beyond the Rocky Mountains. At the 
time they were discovered by Mr. Stuart's party, they were 
almost famished, and were fishing for a precarious meal. Had 
Mr. Stuart made the short cut across the hills, avoiding this 
bend of the river, or had not some of his party accidentally 
gone down to the margin of the stream to drink, these poor 
wanderers might have remained undiscovered, and have per- 
ished in the wilderness. Nothing could exceed their joy on 
thus meeting with their old comrades, or the heartiness with 
which they were welcomed. All hands immediately encamped ; 
and the slender stores of the party were ransacked to furnish 
out a suitable regale. 

The next morning they all se£ out together ; Mr. Miller and 



286 ASTORIA, 

his comrades being resolved to give up the life of a trapper, 
and accompany Mr. Stuart back to St. Louis. 

For several days they kept along the course of Snake River, 
occasionally making short cuts across hills and promon- 
tories, where there were bends in the stream. In their way 
they passed several camps of Shoshonies, from some of whom 
they procured salmon, but in general they were too wretchedly 
poor to furnish anything. It was the wish of Mr. Stuart to 
purchase horses for the recent recruits of his party; but the 
Indians could not be prevailed upon to part with any, alleging 
that they had not enough for their own use. 

On the 25th of August, they reached a great fishing place, to 
which they gave the name of the Salmon Falls. Here there is 
a perpendicular fall of twenty feet on the north side of the 
river, while on the south side there is a succession of rapids. 
The salmon are taken here in incredible quantities, as they at- 
tempt to shoot the falls. It was now a favorable season, and 
there were about one hundred lodges of Shoshonies busily 
engaged killing and drying fish. The salmon begin to leap, 
shortly after sunrise. At this time the Indians swim to the 
centre of the falls, where some station themselves on rocks, 
and others stand to their waists in the water, all armed with 
spears, with which they assail the salmon as they attempt to 
leap, or fall back exhausted. It is an incessant slaughter, so 
great is the throng of the fish. 

The construction of the spears thus used is peculiar. The 
head is a straight piece of elk horn, about seven inches long; 
on the point of which an artificial barb is made fast, with twine 
well gummed. The head is stuck on the end of the shaft, a 
very long pole of willow, to which it is likewise connected by 
a strong cord, a few inches in length. When the spearsman 
makes a sure blow, he often strikes the head of the spear 
through the body of the fish. It comes off easily, and leaves 
the salmon struggling with the string through its body, while 
the pole is still held by the spearsman. Were it not for the 
precaution of the string, the willow shaft would be snapped by 
the struggles and the weight of the fish. Mr. Miller, in the 
course of his wanderings, had been at these falls, and had seen 
several thousand salmon taken in the course of one afternoon. 
He declared that he had seen a salmon leap a distance of about 
thirty feet, from the commencement of the foam at the foot of 
the fall, completely to the top. 

Having purchased a good supply of salmon from the fisher 



ASTOBIA. 287 

men, the party resumed their journey, and on the twenty- 
ninth, arrived at the Caldron Linn ; the eventful scene of the 
preceding autumn. Here, the first thing that met their eyes, 
was a memento of the perplexities of that period; the wreck of 
a canoe lodged between two ledges of rocks. They endeavored 
to get down to it, but the river banks were too high and pre- 
cipitous. 

They now proceeded to that part of the neighborhood where 
Mr. Hunt and his party had made the caches, intending to 
take from them such articles as belonged to Mr. Crooks, M'Lel- 
lan, and the Canadians. On reaching the spot, they found, to 
their astonishment, six of the caches open and rifled of their 
contents, excepting a few books which lay scattered about the 
vicinity. They had the appearance of having been plundered 
in the course of the summer. There were tracks of wolves in 
every direction, to and from the holes, from which Mr. Stuart 
concluded that these animals had first been attracted to the 
place by the smell of the skins contained in the caches, which 
they had probably torn up, and that their tracks had betrayed 
the secret to the Indians. 

The three remaining caches had not been molested; they 
contained a few dry goods, some ammunition, and a number 
of beaver traps. From these Mr. Stuart took whatever was 
requisite for his party ; he then deposited within them all his 
superfluous baggage, and all the books and papers scattered 
around ; the holes were then carefully closed up, and all traces 
of them effaced. And here we have to record another in- 
stance of the indomitable spirit of the western trappers. No 
sooner did the trio of Kentucky hunters, Eobinson, Rezner, 
and Hoback, find that they could once more be fitted out for a 
campaign of beaver-trapping, than they forgot all that they 
had suffered, and determined upon another trial of their for- 
tunes ; preferring to take their chance in the wilderness, rather 
than return home ragged and penniless. As to Mr. Miller, he 
declared his curiosity and his desire of travelling through the 
Indian countries fully satisfied ; he adhered to his determina- 
tion, therefore, to keep on with the party to St. Louis, and to 
return to the bosom of civilized society. 

The three hunters, therefore, Eobinson, Rezner, and Hoback, 
were furnished as far as the caches and the means of Mr. 
Stuart's party afforded, with the requisite munitions and 
equipments for a "two years' hunt;" but as their fitting out 
was yet incomplete, they resolved to wait in this neighborhood 



288 ASTORIA. 

until Mr. Reed should arrive ; whose arrival might soon be ex- 
pected, as he was to set out for the caches about twenty days 
after Mr. Stuart parted with him at the Wallah-Wallah River. 

Mr. Stuart gave in charge to Robinson a letter to Mr. Reed, 
reporting his safe journey thus far, and the state in which he 
had found the caches. A duplicate of this letter he elevated or 
a pole, and set it up near the place of deposit. 

All things being thus arranged, Mr. Stuart and his little 
band, now seven in number, took leave of the three hardy 
trappers, wishing them all possible success in their lonely and 
perilous sojourn in the wilderness; and we, in like manner, 
shall leave them to their fortunes, promising to take them up 
again at some future page, and to close the story of their per- 
severing and ill-fated enterprise. 



CHAPTER XLV. 



On the 1st of September, Mr. Stuart and his companions re* 
sumed their journey, bending their course eastward, along the 
course of Snake River. As they advanced the country 
opened. The hills which had hemmed in the river receded on 
either hand, and g.reat sandy and dusty plains extended before 
them. Occasionally there were intervals of pasturage, and the 
banks of the river were fringed with willows and cotton- wood, 
so that its course might be traced from the hill-tops, winding 
under an umbrageous covert, through a wide sunburnt land- 
scape. The soil, however, was generally poor; there was in 
some places a miserable growth of wormwood, and a plant 
called salt-weed, resembling pennyroyal ; but the summer heat 
had parched the plains, and left but little pasturage. The 
game too had disappeared. The hunter looked in vain over 
the lifeless landscape ; now and then a few antelope might be 
seen, but not within reach of the rifle. We forbear to follow 
the travellers in a week's wandering over these barren wastes, 
where they suffered much from hunger; having to depend 
upon a few fish from the streams, and now and then a little 
dried salmon, or a dog, procured from some forlorn lodge of 
the Shoshonies. 

Tired, of these cheerless wastes, they left the banks of Snake 



ASTORIA. 289 

River on the 7th of September, under guidance of Mr. Miller, 
who having acquired some knowledge of the country during 
his trapping campaign, undertook to conduct them across the 
mountains by a better route than that by Fort Henry, and one 
more out of the range of the Blackfeet. He proved, however, 
but an indifferent guide, and they soon became bewildered 
among rugged hills and unknown streams, and burnt and bar- 
ren prairies. 

At length they came to a river on which Mr. Miller had 
trapped, and to which they gave his name ; though, as before 
observed, we presume it to be the same called Bear River, 
which empties itself into Lake Bonneville. Up this river and 
its branches they kept for two or three days, supporting them- 
selves precariously upon fish. They soon found that they 
were in a dangerous neighborhood. On the 12th of September, 
having encamped early, they sallied forth with their rods to 
angle for their supper. On returning, they beheld a number 
of Indians prowling about their camp, whom to their infinite 
disquiet, they soon perceived to be Upsarokas, or Crows. 
Their chief came forward with a confident air. He was a dark 
herculean fellow, full six feet four inches in height, with a 
mingled air of the ruffian and the rogue. He conducted him- 
self peaceably, however, and dispatched some of his people to 
their camp, which was somewhere in the neighborhood, from 
whence they returned with a most acceptable supply of buffalo 
meat. He now signified to Mr. Stuart that he was going to 
trade with the Snakes wiio reside on the west base of the 
mountains below Henry's Fort. Here they cultivate a delicate 
kind of tobacco, much esteemed and sought after by the moun- 
tain tribes. There was something sinister, however, in the 
look of this Indian, that inspired distrust. By degrees, the 
number of his people increased, until, by midnight, there were 
twenty-one of them about the camp, who began to be impudent 
and troublesome. The greatest uneasiness was now felt for the 
safety of the horses and effects, and every one kept vigilant 
watch throughout the night. 

The morning dawned, however, without any unpleasant 
occurrence, and Mr. Stuart, having purchased all the buffalo 
meat that the Crows had to spare, prepared to depart. His 
Indian acquaintance, however, were disposed for further deal- 
ings ; and above all, anxious for a supply of gunpowder, for 
".vhich they offered horses in exchange. Mr. Stuart declined to 
furnish them with the dangerous commodity. They became 



290 ASTORIA. 

more importunate in their solicitations, until they met with a 
flat refusal. 

The gigantic chief now stepped forward, assumed a swelling 
air, and slapping himself upon the breast gave Mr. Crooks to 
understand that he was a chief of great power and importance. 
He signified further that it was customary for great chiefs 
when they met, to make each other presents. He requested, 
therefore, that Mr. Stuart would alight, and give him the horse 
upon which he was mounted. This w^as a noble animal, of one 
of the wild races of the prairies ; on which Mr. Stuart set great 
value ; he of course shook his head at the request of the Crow 
dignitary. Upon tins the latter strode up to him, and taking 
hold of him, moved him backward and forward in his saddle, 
as if to make him feel that he was a mere child within his grasp. 
Mr. Stuart preserved his calmness and still shook his head. 
The chief then seized the bridle and gave it a jerk that startled 
the horse, and nearly brought the rider to the ground. Mr. 
Stuart instantly drew forth a pistol and presented it at the 
head of the bully-ruffian. In a twinkling, his swaggering was 
at an end, and he dodged behind his horse to escape the ex- 
pected shot. As his subject Crows gazed on the affray from a 
little distance, Mr. Stuart ordered his men to level their rifles 
at them, but not to fire. The whole crew scampered among 
the bushes, and throwing themselves upon the ground, van- 
ished from sight. 

The chieftain thus left alone was confounded for an instant; 
but recovering himself, with true Indian shrewdness, burst 
into a loud laugh, and affected to turn off the whole matter as 
a piece of pleasantry. Mr. Stuart by no means relished such 
equivocal joking, but it was not his policy to get into a quar- 
rel ; so he joined with the best grace he could assume, in the 
merriment of the jocular giant ; and, to console the latter for 
the refusal of the horse, made him a present of twenty charges 
of powder. They parted, according to all outward professions, 
the best friends in the world ; it was evident, however, that 
nothing but the smallness of his own force, and the martial 
array and alertness of the white men, had prevented the 
Crow chief from proceeding to open outrage. As it was, his 
worthy followers, in the course of their brief interview, had 
contrived to purloin a bag containing almost all the culinary 
utensils of the party. 

The travellers kept on their way due east, over a chain of 
hills. The recent rencontre showed them that they were now 



ASTORIA. 291 

in a land of danger, subject to the wide roamings of a preda- 
cious tribe ; nor in fact, had they gone many miles before they 
beheld such sights calculated to inspire anxiety and alarm. 
From the summits of some of the loftiest mountains, in differ- 
ent directions, columns of smoke began to rise. These they 
concluded to be signals made by the runners of the Crow 
chieftain to summon the stragglers of his band, so as to pur- 
sue them with greater force. Signals of this kind, made by 
outrunners from one central point, will rouse a wide circuit of 
the mountains in a wonderfully short space of time ; and bring 
the straggling hunters and warriors to the standard of their 
chieftain. 

To keep as much as possible out of the way of these free- 
booters, Mr. Stuart altered his course to the north, and,' quit- 
ting the main stream of Miller's River kept up a large branch 
that came in from the mountains. Here they encamped after 
a fatiguing march of twenty -five miles. As the night drew on, 
the horses were hobbled or tethered, and tethered close to the 
camp; a vigilant watch was maintained until morning and 
every one slept with his rifle on his arm. 

At sunrise, they were again on the march, still keeping to 
the north. They soon began to ascend the mountains, and 
occasionally had wide prospects over the surrounding country. 
Not a sign of a Crow was to be seen ; but this did not assure 
them of their security, well knowing the perseverance of these 
savages in dogging any party they intend to rob, and the 
stealthy way in which they can conceal their movements, 
keeping along ravines and defiles. After a mountain scramble 
of twenty-one miles they encamped on the margin of a stream 
running to the north. 

In the evening there was an alarm of Indians and every one 
was instantly on the alert, They proved to be three miserable 
Snakes, who were no sooner informed that a band of Crows 
was prowling in the neighborhood, than they made off with 
great signs of consternation. 

A couple more of weary days and watchf ui nights brought 
them to a strong and rapid stream, running due north, which 
they concluded to be one of the upper branches of Snake River. 
It was probably the same since called Salt River. They deter- 
mined to bend their course down this river, as it would take 
them still further out of the dangerous neighborhood of the 
Crows. They then would strike upon Mr. Hunt's track of the 
preceding autumn, and retrace it across the mountains. The 



292 ASTORIA. 

attempt to find a better route under guidance of Mr. Miller had 
cost them a large bend to the south; in resuming Mr. Hunt's 
track, they would at least be sure of their road. They accord- 
ingly turned down along the course of this stream, and at the 
end of three days' journey, came to where it was joined by a 
larger river, and assumed a more impetuous character, raging 
and roaring among rocks and precipices. It proved, in fact, 
to be Mad Eiver, already noted in the expedition of Mr. Hunt. 
On the banks of this river they encamped on the 18th of Sep 
tember, at an early hour. 

Six days had now elapsed since their interview with the 
Crows ; during that time they had come nearly a hundred and 
fifty miles to the north and west, without seeing any signs of 
those marauders. They considered themselves, therefore, be- 
yond the reach of molestation, and began to relax in their vigi- 
lance, lingering occasionally for part of a day, where there was 
good pasturage. The poor horses needed repose. They had 
been urged on, by forced marches, over rugged heights, among 
rocks and fallen timber, or over low swampy valleys, inun- 
dated by the labors of the beaver. These industrious animals 
abounded in all the mountain streams, and water courses, 
wherever there were willows for their subsistence. Many of 
them they had so completely dammed up as to inundate the low 
grounds, making shallow pools or lakes, and extensive quag- 
mires; by which the route of the travellers was often impeded. 

On the 19th of September, they rose at early dawn; some 
began to prepare breakfast, and others to arrange the packs 
preparatory to a march. The horses had been hobbled, but 
left at large to graze upon the adjacent pasture. Mr. Stuart 
was on the bank of a river, at a short distance from the camp, 
when he heard the alarm cry — " Indians! Indians! — to arms! 
to arms !" 

A mounted Crow galloped past the camp, bearing a red flag. 
He reined his steed on the summit of a neighboring knoll, and 
waved his flaring banner. A diabolical yell now broke forth 
on the opposite side of the camp, beyond where the horses were 
grazing, and a small troop of savages came galloping up, 
whooping and making a terrific clamor. The horses took 
fright, and dashed across the camp in the direction of the 
standard-bearer, attracted by his waving flag. He instantly 
put spurs to his steed, and scoured off, followed by the panic- 
stricken herd, their flight being increased by the yells @f the 
savages in their rear, 



ASTORIA. 293 

At the first alarm Mr. Stuart and his comrades had seized 
their rifles, and attempted to cut off the Indians, who were 
pursuing the horses. Their attention was instantly distracted 
by whoops and yells in an opposite direction. They now ap- 
prehended that a reserve party was about to carry off their 
baggage. They ran to secure it. The reserve party, however, 
galloped by, whooping and yelling in triumph and derision. 
The last of them proved to be their commander, the identical 
giant joker already mentioned. He was not cast in the stern 
poetical mould of fashionable Indian heroism, but on the con- 
trary, was grievously given to vulgar jocularity. As he passed 
Mr. Stuart and his companions, he checked his horse, raised 
hiniself in the saddle, and clapping his hand on the most in- 
sulting part of his body, uttered some jeering words, 'which, 
fortunately for their delicacy, they could not understand. 
The rifle of Ben Jones was levelled in an instant, and he was 
on the point of whizzing a bullet into the target so tauntingly 
displayed. "Not for your life! not for your life!" exclaimed 
Mr. Stuart', " you will bring destruction on us all !" 

It was hard to restrain honest Ben, when the mark was so 
fair and the insult so foul. " Oh, Mr. Stuart," exclaimed he, 
" only let me have one crack at the infernal rascal, and you 
may keep all the pay that is due to me." 

"By heaven, if you fire," cried Mr. Stuart, "I blow your 
brains out." 

By this time the Indian was far out of reach, and had re- 
joined Ms men, and the whole dare-devil band, with the cap- 
tured horses, scuttled off along the defiles, their red flag flaunt- 
ing overhead, and the rocks echoing to their whoops and yells, 
and demoniac laughter. 

The unhorsed travellers gazed after them in silent mortifica- 
tion and despair; yet Mr. Stuart could not but admire the 
style and spirit with which the whole exploit had been man- 
aged, and pronounced it one of the most daring and intrepid 
actions he had ever heard of among Indians. The whole num- 
ber of the Crows did not exceed twenty. In this way a small 
gang of lurkers will hurry off the cavalry of a large war party, 
for when once a drove of horse are seized with a panic, they 
become frantic, and nothing short of broken necks can stop 
them. 

No one was more annoyed by this unfortunate occurrence 
than Ben Jones. He declared he would actually have given his 
whole arrears of pay, amounting to upwards of a year's wages, 



294 ASTOEIA. 

rather than be balked of such a capital shot. Mr. Stuart, how. 
ever, represented what might have been the consequence of 
so rash an act. Life for life is the Indian maxim. The whole 
tribe would have made common cause in avenging the death 
of a warrior. The party were but seven dismounted men, with 
a wide mountain region to traverse, infested by these people, 
and which might all be roused by signal fires. In fact, the 
conduct of the band of marauders in question, showed the 
perseverance of savages when once they have fixed their minds 
upon a project. These fellows had evidently been silently and 
secretly dogging the party for a week past, and a distance of a 
hundred and fifty miles, keeping out of sight by day, lurking 
about the encampment at night, watching all their movements, 
and waiting for a favorable moment when they should be off 
their guard. The menace of Mr. Stuart in their first inter- 
view, to shoot the giant chief with his pistol, and the fright 
caused among the warriors by presenting the rifles, had prob- 
ably added the stimulus of pique to their usual horse-stealing 
propensities, and in this mood of mind they would doubtless 
have followed the party throughout the whole course over 
the Eocky Mountains, rather than be disappointed in their 
scheme. 



CHAPTER XLVL 



Few reverses in this changeful world are more complete and 
disheartening than that of a traveller, suddenly unhorsed, in 
the midst of the wilderness. Our unfortunate travellers con- 
templated their situation, for a time, in perfect dismay. A 
long journey over rugged mountains and immeasurable plains 
lay before them, which they must painfully perform on foot, 
and everything necessary for subsistence or defence must be 
carried on their shoulders. Their dismay, however, was but 
transient, and they immediately set to work, with that prompt 
expediency produced by the exigencies of the wilderness, to fit 
themselves for the change in their condition. 

Their first attention was to select from their baggage such 
articles as were indispensable to their journey ; to make them 
up into convenient packs, and to deposit the residue in caches. 
The whole day was consumed in these occupations ; at night 
they made a scanty meal of their remaining provisions, and 



ASTORIA. 295 

lay down to sleep with heavy hearts. In the morning, they 
were up and about at an early hour, and began to prepare their 
knapsacks for a march, while Ben Jones repaired to an old 
beaver trap which he had set in the river bank at some little 
distance from the camp. He was rejoiced to find a middle- 
sized beaver there, sufficient for a morning's meal to his 
hungry comrades. On his way back with his prize, he ob- 
served two heads peering over the edge of an impending cliff, 
several hundred feet high, which he supposed to a -couple of 
wolves. As he continued on, he now and then cast his eye up; 
the heads were still there, looking down with fixed and watch- 
ful gaze. A suspicion now flashed across his mind that they 
might be Indian scouts ; and had they not been far above the 
reach of his rifle, he would undoubtedly have regaled 'them 
with a shot. 

On arriving at the camp, he directed the attention of his 
comrades to these aerial observers. The same idea was at first 
entertained, that they were wolves; but their immovable 
watchfulness soon satisfied every one that they were Indians. 
It was concluded that they were watching the movements of 
the party, tojliscover their place of concealment of such ar- 
ticles as they would be compelled to leave behind. There was 
no likelihood that the caches would escape the search of such 
keen eyes and experienced rummagers, and the idea was in- 
tolerable that any more booty should fall into their hands. To 
disappoint them, therefore, the travellers stripped the caches of 
the articles deposited there, and collecting together everything 
that they could not carry away with them, made a bonfire of 
all that would burn, and threw the rest into the river. There 
was a forlorn satisfaction in thus balking the Crows, by the 
destruction of their own property ; and, having thus gratified 
their pique, they shouldered their packs, about ten o'clock in 
the morning, and set out on their pedestrian wayfaring. 

The route they took was down along the banks of Mad 
River. This stream makes its way through the defiles of the 
mountains, into the plain below Fort Henry, where it termi- 
nates in Snake Eiver. Mr. Stuart was in hopes of meeting 
with Snake encampments in the plain, where he might pro- 
cure a couple of horses to transport the baggage. In such 
case, he intended to resume his eastern course across the 
mountains, and endeavor to reach the Cheyenne River before 
winter. Should he fail, however, of obtaining horses, he would 
probably be compelled to winter on the Pacific side of the 



296 ASTORIA. 

mountains, somewhere on the head waters of the Spanish or 
Colorado Eiver. 

With all the care that had been observed in taking nothing 
with them that was not absolutely necessary, the poor pedes- 
trians were heavily laden, and their burdens added to the 
fatigue of their rugged road. They suffered much, too, from 
hunger. The trout they caught were too poor to yield much 
nourishment ; their main dependence, therefore, was upon an 
old beaver trap, which they had providentially retained. 
Whenever they were fortunate enough to entrap a beaver, it 
was cut up immediately and distributed, that each man might 
carry his share. 

After two days of toilsome travel, during which they made 
but eighteen miles, they stopped on the 21st to build two rafts 
on which to cross to the north side of the river. On these they 
embarked on the following morning, four on one raft, and 
three on the other, and pushed boldly from shore. Finding 
the rafts sufficiently firm and steady to withstand the rough 
and rapid water, they changed their minds, and instead of 
crossing, ventured to float down with the current. The river 
was in general very rapid, and from one to two hundred yards 
in width, winding in every direction through mountains of 
"hard black rock, covered with pines and cedars. The moun- 
tains to the east of the river were spurs of the Rocky range, 
and of great magnitude ; those on the west were little better 
than hills, bleak and barren, or scantily clothed with stunted 
grass. 

Mad Eiver, though deserving its name from the impetuosity 
of its current, was free from rapids and cascades, and flowed 
on in a single channel between gravel banks, often fringed with 
cotton-wood and dwarf willows in abundance. These gave 
sustenance to immense quantities of beaver, so that the voy- 
ageurs found no difficulty in procuring food. Ben Jones, also, 
killed a fallow deer and a wolverine, and as they were enabled 
to carry the carcasses on their rafts, their larder was well sup- 
plied. Indeed they might have occasionally shot beavers that 
were swimming in the river as they floated by, but they hu- 
manely spared their lives, being in no want of meat at the 
time. In this way they kept down the river for three days, 
drifting with the current and encamping on land at night, 
when they drew up their rafts on shore. Toward the evening 
of the third day, they came to a little island on which thej 
descried a gang of elk. Ben Jones landed, and was fortunate 



ASTOBIA. 297 

enough to wound one, which immediately took to the water, 
but, being unable to stem the current, drifted above a mile, 
when it was overtaken and drawn to shore. As a storm was 
gathering, they now encamped on the margin of the river, 
where they remained all the next day, sheltering themselves 
as well as they could from the rain, and hail, and snow, a 
sharp foretaste of the impending winter. During their en- 
campment they employed themselves in jerking a part of the 
elk for future supply. In cutting up the carcass they found 
that the animal had been wounded by hunters, about a week 
previously, an arrow head and a musket ball remaining in the 
wounds. In the wilderness every trivial circumstance is a 
matter of anxious speculation. The Snake Indians have no 
guns ; the elk, therefore, could not have been wounded by one 
of them. They were on the borders of the country infested by 
the Blackfeet, who carry firearms. It was concluded, there- 
fore, that the elk had been hunted by some of that wandering 
and hostile tribe, who, of course, must be in the neighborhood. 
The idea put an end to the transient solace they had enjoyed 
in the comparative repose and abundance of the river. 

For three days longer they continued to navigate with thefr 
rafts. The recent storm had rendered the weather extremely 
cold. They had now floated down the river about ninety-one 
miles, when, finding the mountains on the right diminished to 
moderate sized hills, they landed, and prepared to resume their 
journey on foot. Accordingly, having spent a day in prepara- 
tions, making moccasons, and parcelling out their jerked meat 
in packs of twenty pounds to each man, they turned their 
backs upon the river on the 29th of September, and struck off 
to the northeast; keeping along the southern skirt of the 
mountain on which Henry's Fort was situated. 

Their march was slow and toilsome ; part of the time through 
an alluvial bottom, thickly grown with cotton- wood, hawthorn, 
and willows, and part of the time over rough hills. Three ante- 
lopes came within shot, but they dared not fire at them, lest 
the report of their rifles should betray them to the Blackfeet. 
In the course of the day they came upon a large horse-track, 
apparently about three weeks old, and in the evening, en- 
camped on the banks of a small stream, on a spot which had 
been the camping place of this same band. 

On the following morning they still observed the Indian 
track, but after a time they came to where it separated in 
every direction, and was lost. This showed that the band had 



298 ASTORIA. 

dispersed in various hunting parties, and was, in all proba< 
bility, still in the neighborhood; it was necessary, therefore, 
to proceed with the utmost caution. They kept a vigilant eye 
as they marched, upon every height where a scout might be 
posted, and scanned the solitary landscape and the distant 
ravines, to observe any column of smoke ; but nothing of the 
kind was to be seen ; all was indescribably stern and lifeless. 

Toward evening they came to where there were several hot 
springs, strongly impregnated with iron and sulphur, and send- 
ing up a volume of vapor that tainted the surrounding atmos- 
phere, and might be seen at the distance of a couple of miles. 

Near to these they encamped in a deep gully, which afforded 
some concealment. To their great concern, Mr. Crooks, who 
had been indisposed for the two preceding days, had a violent 
fever in the night. 

Shortly after daybreak they resumed their march. On 
emerging from the glen a consultation was held as to their 
course. Should they continue round the skirt of the moun- 
tain, they would be in danger of falling in with the scattered 
parties of Blackf eet, who were probably hunting in the plain. 
It was thought most advisable, therefore, to strike directly 
across the mountain, since the route, though rugged and diffi- 
cult, would be most secure. This counsel was indignantly de- 
rided by M'Lellan as pusillanimous. Hot-headed and impatient 
at all times, he had been rendered irascible by the fatigues of 
the journey, and the condition of his feet, which were chafed 
and sore. He could not endure the idea of encountering the 
difficulties of the mountain, and swore he would rather face 
all the Blackfeet in the country. He was overruled, however, 
and the party began to ascend the mountain, striving, with 
the ardor and emulation of young men, who should be first 
up. M'Lellan, who was double the age of some of his com- 
panions, soon began to lose breath, and fall in the rear. In 
the distribution of burdens, it was his turn to carry the old 
beaver trap. Piqued and irritated, he suddenly came to a 
halt, swore he would carry it no further, and jerked it half 
way down the hill. He was offered in place of it a package of 
dried meat, but this he scornfully threw upon the ground. 
They might carry it, he said, who needed it, for his part, he 
could provide his daily food with his rifle. He concluded by 
flinging off from the party, and keeping along the skirts of the 
mountain, leaving those, he said, to climb rocks, who were 
afraid to face Indians, It was in vain that Mr. Stuart rep- 



ASTORIA. 299 

resented to him the rashness of his conduct, and the dangers 
to which he exposed himself; he rejected such counsel as 
craven. It was equally useless to represent the dangers to 
which he subjected his companions; as he could be discovered 
at a great distance on those naked plains, and the Indians, 
seeing him, would know that there must be other white men 
within reach. M'Lellan turned a deaf ear to every remon- 
strance, and kept on his wilful way. 

It seems a strange instance of perverseness in this man thus 
to fling himself off alone, in a savage region, where solitude it- 
self was dismal, but every encounter with his fellow-man full 
of peril. Such, however, is the hardness of spirit, and the in- 
sensibility to danger that grow upon men in the wilderness. 
M'Lellan, moreover, was a man of peculiar temperament, un- 
governable in his will, of a courage that absolutely knew no 
fear, and somewhat of a braggart spirit, that took a pride in 
doing desperate and hair-brained things. 

Mr. Stuart and his party found the passage of the mountain 
somewhat difficult, on account of the snow, which in many 
places was of considerable depth, though it was now but the 1st 
of October. They crossed the summit early in the afternoon, 
and beheld below them a plain about twenty miles wide, 
bounded on the opposite side by their old acquaintances, the 
Pilot Knobs, those towering mountains which had served Mr. 
Hunt as landmarks in part of his route of the preceding year. 
Through the intermediate plain wandered a river about fifty 
yards wide, sometimes gleaming in open day, but oftener run- 
ning through willowed banks, which marked its serpentine 
course. 

Those of the party who had been across these mountains 
pointed out much of the bearings of the country to Mr. Stuart. 
They showed him in what direction must lie the deserted post 
called Henry's Fort, where they had abandoned their horses 
and embarked in canoes, and they informed him that the 
stream which wandered through the plain below them, fell 
into Henry River, half way between the fort and the mouth of 
Mad or Snake River. The character of all this mountain region 
was decidedly volcanic ; and to the northwest, between Henry's 
Fort and the source of the Missouri, Mr. Stuart observed 
several very high peaks covered with snow, from two of which 
smoke ascended in considerable volumes, apparently from 
craters, in a state of eruption. 

On their way down the mountain, when they had reached 



300 ASTORIA. 

the skirts, they descried M'Lellan at a distance, in the advance, 
traversing the plain. Whether he saw them or not, he showed 
no disposition to rejoin them, but pursued his sullen and soli- 
tary way. After descending into the plain, they kept on 
about six miles, until they reached the little river, which was 
here about knee deep, and richly fringed with willows. Here 
they encamped for the night. At this encampment the fever 
of Mr. Crooks increased to such a degree that it was impossible 
for him to travel. Some of the men were strenuous for Mr. 
Stuart to proceed without him, urging the imminent danger 
they were exposed to by delay in that unknown and barren 
region, infested by the most treacherous and inveterate of foes. 
They represented that the season was rapidly advancing ; the 
weather for some days had been extremely cold ; the moun- 
tains were already almost impassable from snow, and would 
soon present effectual barriers. Their provisions were ex- 
hausted ; there was no game to be seen, and they did not dare 
to use their rifles, through fear of drawing upon them the 
Blackfeet. ♦ 

The picture thus presented was too true to be contradicted, 
and made a deep impression on the mind of Mr. Stuart ; but 
the idea of abandoning a fellow-being, and a comrade, in such 
a forlorn situation, was too repugnant to his feelings to be 
admitted for an instant. He represented to the men that the 
malady of Mr. Crooks could not be of long duration, and that 
in all probability he would be able to travel in the course of a 
few days. It was with great difficulty, however, that he pre- 
vailed upon them to abide the event. 



CHAPTER XLVIL 



As the travellers were now in a dangerous neighborhood 
where the report of a rifle might bring the savages upon them, 
they had to depend upon their old beaver-trap for subsistence. 
The little river on which they were encamped gave many 
" beaver signs," and Ben Jones set off at daybreak, along the 
willowed banks, to find a proper trapping-place. As he was 
making his way among the thickets, with his trap on his 
shoulder and his rifle in his hand, he heard a crashing sound, 
and turning, beheld a huge grizzly bear advancing upon him 



ASTORIA, 301 

with a terrific growl. The sturdy Kentuckian w r as not to be 
intimidated by man or monster. Levelling his rifle, he pulled 
trigger. The bear was wounded, but not mortally; instead, 
however, of rushing upon his assailant, as is generally the case 
with this kind of bear, he retreated into the bushes. Jones 
followed him for some distance, but with suitable caution, and 
Bruin effected his escape. 

As there was every prospect of a detention of some days in 
this place, and as the supplies of the beaver trap were too pre- 
carious to be depended upon, it became absolutely necessary to 
run some risk of discovery by hunting in the neighborhood. 
Ben Jones, therefore, obtained permission to range with his 
rifle some distance from the camp, and set off to beat up the 
river banks, in defiance of bear or Blackf eet. 

He returned in great spirits in the course of a few hours, 
having come upon a gang of elk about six miles off, and killed 
five. This was joyful news, and the party immediately moved 
forward to the place where he had left the carcasses. They 
were obliged to support Mr. Crooks the whole distance, for he 
was unable to walk. Here they remained for two or three 
days, feasting heartily on elk meat, and drying as much as 
they would be able to carry away with them. 

By the 5th of October, some simple prescriptions, together 
with an "Indian sweat," had so far benefited Mr. Crooks, that 
he was enabled to move about; they, therefore, set forward 
slowly, dividing his pack and accoutrements among them, and 
made a creeping day's progress of eight miles south. Their 
route for the most part lay through swamps, caused by the 
industrious labors of the beaver; for this little animal had 
dammed up numerous small streams issuing from the Pilot 
Knob Mountains, so that the low grounds on their borders were 
completely inundated. In the course of their march they killed 
a grizzly bear, with fat on its flank upwards of three inches in 
thickness. This was an acceptable addition to their stock of 
elk meat. The next day Mr. Crooks was sufficiently recruited 
in strength to be able to carry his rifle and pistols, and they 
made a march of seventeen miles along the borders of the plain. 

Their journey daily became more toilsome, and their suffer- 
ings more severe, as they advanced. Keeping up the channel 
of a river, they traversed the rugged summit of the Pilot Knob 
Mountain, covered with snow nine inches deep. For several 
days they continued, bending their course as much as possible 
to the east, over a succession of rocky heights, deep valleys, 



3()2 ASTORIA. 

and rapid streams. Sometimes their dizzy path lay along the 
margin of perpendicular precipices, several hundred feet in 
height, where a single false step might precipitate them into 
the rocky hed of a torrent which roared below. Not the least 
part of their weary task wae the fording of the numerous wind 
ings and branchings of the mountain rivers, all boisterous in 
their currents and icy cold. 

* Hunger was added to their other sufferings, and soon be- 
came the keenest. The small supply of bear and elk meat 
which they had been able to carry, in addition to their previous 
burdens, served but f or* a very short time. In their anxiety to 
struggle forward, they had but little time to hunt, and scarce 
any game in their path. For three days they had nothing to 
eat but a small duck and a few poor trout. They occasionally 
saw numbers of antelopes, and tried every art to get within 
shot ; but the timid animals were more than commonly wild, 
and after tantalizing the hungry hunters for a time, bounded 
away beyond all chance of pursuit. At length they were for- 
tunate enough to kill one ; it was extremely meagre, and yield- 
ed but a scanty supply ; but on this they subsisted for several 
days. 

On the 11th, they encamped on a small stream, near the foot 
of the Spanish River Mountain. Here they met with traces of 
that wayward and solitary being, M'Lellan, who was still keep- 
ing on ahead of them through these lonely mountains. He had 
encamped the night before on this stream ; they found the em- 
bers of the fire by which he had slept, and the remains of a 
miserable wolf on which he had supped. It was evident he had 
suffered, like themselves, the pangs of hunger, though he had 
fared better at this encampment ; for they had not a mouthful 
to eat. 

The next day they rose hungry and alert, and set out with 
the dawn to climb the mountain, which was steep and difficult. 
Traces of volcanic eruptions were to be seen in various direc- 
tions. There was a species of clay also to be met with, out of 
which the Indians manufacture pots and jars, and dishes. It is 
very fine and light, of an agreeable smell, and of a brown color 
spotted with yellow, and dissolves readily in the mouth. Ves- 
sels manufactured of it are said to impart a pleasant smell and 
flavor to any liquids. These mountains abound also with min- 
eral earths, or chalks of various colors ; especially two kinds of 
ochre, one a pale, the other a bright red, like vermilion; much 
used by the Indians, in painting their bodies. 



ASTORIA. 303 

About noon the travellers reached the " drains" and brooks 
that formed the head waters of the river, and later in the day 
descended to where the main body, a shallow stream, about a 
hundred and sixty yards wide, poured through its mountain 
valley. 

Here the poor famishing wanderers had expected to find buf- 
falo in abundance, and had fed their hungry hopes during their 
scrambling toil, with the thoughts of roasted ribs, juicy humps, 
and broiled marrow bones. To their great disappointment the 
river banks were deserted ; a few old tracks, showed where a 
herd of bulls had some time before passed along, but not a horn 
nor hump was to be seen in the sterile landscape. A few ante- 
lopes looked down upon them from the brow of a crag, but 
flitted away out of sight at the least approach of the hunter. 

In the most starving mood they kept for several mil&s further 
along the bank of the river, seeking for " beaver signs." Find- 
ing some, they encamped in the vicinity, and Ben Jones imme- 
diately proceeded to set the trap. They had scarce come to a 
halt, when they perceived a large smoke at some distance 
to the southwest. The sight was hailed with joy, for they 
trusted it might rise from some Indian camp, where they could 
procure something to eat, and the dread of starvation had now 
overcome even the terror of the Blackfeet. Le Clerc, one of 
the Canadians, was instantly dispatched by Mr. Stuart, to re- 
connoitre ; and the travellers set up till a late hour, watching 
and listening for his return, hoping he might bring them food. 
Midnight arrived, but Le Clerc did not make his appearance, 
and they laid down once more supperless to sleep, comforting 
themselves with the hopes that their old beaver trap might fur- 
nish them with a breakfast. 

At daybreak they hastened with famished eagerness to the 
trap— they found in it the f orepaw of a beaver; the sight of 
which tantalized their hunger, and added to their dejection. 
They resumed their journey with flagging spirits, but had not 
gone far when they perceived Le Clerc approaching at a dis- 
tance. They hastened to meet him, in hopes of tidings of good 
cheer. He had none to give them; but news of that strange 
wanderer, M'Lellan. The smoke had risen from his encamp- 
ment, which took fire while he was at a little distance from it 
fishing. Le Clerc found him in forlorn condition. His fishing 
had been unsuccessful. During twelve days that he had been 
wandering alone through these savage mountains, he had found 
gcarce anything to eat. He had been ill, wayworn, sick at 



304 ASTORIA. 

heart, still he had kept forward ; but now his strength and his 
stubbornness were exhausted. He expressed his satisfaction at 
hearing that Mr. Stuart and his party were near, and said he 
would wait at his camp for their arrival, in hopes they would 
give him something to eat, for without food he declared he 
should not be able to proceed much further. 

When the party reached the place, they found the poor 
fellow lying on a parcel of withered grass, wasted to a perfect 
skeleton, and so feeble that he could scarce raise his head to 
speak. The presence of his old comrades seemed to revive him ; 
but they had no food to give him, for they themselves were 
almost starving. They urged him to rise and accompany 
them, but he shook his head. It was all in vain, he said ; there 
was no prospect of their getting speedy relief, and without it he 
should perish by the way ; he might as well, therefore, stay 
and die where he was. At length, after much persuasion, they 
got him upon his legs ; his rifle and other effects were shared 
among them, and he was cheered and aided forward. In this 
way they proceeded for seventeen miles, over a level plain of 
sand, until, seeing a few antelopes in the distance, they en- 
camped on the margin of a small stream. All now that were 
capable of the exertion, turned out to hunt for a meal. Their 
efforts were fruitless, and after dark they returned to their 
camp, famished almost to desperation. 

As they were preparing for the third time to lay down to 
sleep without a mouthful to eat, Le Clerc, one of the Canadi- 
ans, gaunt and wild with hunger, approached Mr. Stuart with 
his gun in his hand. ' i It was all in vain, " he said, ' ' to attempt 
to proceed any further without food. They had a barren plain 
before them, three or four days' journey in extent, on which 
nothing was to be procured. They must all perish before they 
could get to the end of it. It was better, therefore, that one 
should die to save the rest." He proposed, therefore, that they 
should cast lots ; adding as an inducement for Mr. Stuart to 
assent to the proposition, that he as leader of the party, should 
be exempted. 

Mr. Stuart shuddered at the horrible proposition, and 
endeavored to reason with the man, but his words were 
unavailing. At length, snatching up his rifle, he threatened to 
shoot him on the spot if he persisted. The famished wretch 
dropped on his knees, begged pardon in the most abject 
terms, and promised never again to offend him with such a 
suggestion* 



ASTORIA. 305 

Quiet being restored to the forlorn encampment, each one 
sought repose. Mr. Stuart, however, was so exhausted by the 
agitation of the past scene, acting upon his emaciated frame, 
that he could scarce crawl to his miserable couch ; where, not- 
withstanding his fatigues, he passed a sleepless night, revolv- 
ing upon their dreary situation, and the desperate prospect be- 
fore them. 

Before daylight the next morning, they were up and on their 
way; they had nothing to detain them; no breakfast to prepare, 
and to linger was to perish. They proceeded, however, but 
slov/ly, for all were faint and weak. Here and there tl^ey 
passed the skulls and bones of buffaloes, which showed that 
these animals must have been hunted here during the past 
season; the sight of these bones served only to mock their 
misery. After travelling about nine miles along the plain, 
they ascended a range of hills, and had scarcely gone two miles 
further, when to their great joy, they discovered " an old run- 
down buffalo bull;" the laggard probably of some herd that 
had been hunted and harassed through the mountains. They 
now all stretched themselves out to encompass and make sure 
of this solitary animal, for their lives depended upon their suc- 
cess. After considerable trouble and infinite anxiety, they at 
length succeeded in killing him. He was instantly flayed and 
cut up, and so ravenous was their hunger that they devoured 
some of the flesh raw. The residue they carried to a brook 
near by, where they encamped, lit a fire, and began to cook. 

Mr. Stuart was fearful that in their famished state, they 
would eat to excess and injure themselves. He caused a soup 
to be made of some of the meat, and that each should take a 
quantity of it as a prelude to his supper. This may have had a 
beneficial effect, for though they sat up the greater part of the 
night, cooking and cramming, no one suffered any inconve- 
nience. 

The next morning the feasting was resumed, and about mid- 
day, feeling somewhat recruited and refreshed, they set out on 
their journey with renovated spirits, shaping their course 
toward a mountain, the summit of which they saw towering in 
the east, and near to which they expected to find the head 
waters of the Missouri. 

As they proceeded, they continued to see the skeletons of 
buffaloes scattered about the plain in every direction, which 
showed that there had been much hunting here by the Indians 
in the recent season. Further on they crossed a large Indian 



306 ASTORIA. 

trail, forming a deep path, about fifteen days old, which went 
in a north direction. They concluded it to have been made by 
some numerous band of Crows, who had hunted in this country 
for the greater part of the summer. 

On the following day they forded a stream of considerable 
magnitude, with banks clothed with pine trees. Among these 
they found the traces of a large Indian camp, which had evi- 
dently been the headquarters of a hunting expedition, from the 
great quantities of buffalo bones strewed about the neighbor- 
hood. The camp had apparently been abandoned about a 
month. 

In the centre was a singular lodge one hundred and fifty feet 
in circumference, supported by the trunks of twenty trees, 
about twelve inches in diameter and forty-four feet long. 
Across these were laid branches of pine and willow trees, so as 
to yield a tolerable shade. At the west end, immediately oppo- 
site to the door, three bodies lay interred with their feet 
toward the east. At the head of each grave was a branch of 
red cedar firmly planted in the ground. At the foot was a 
large buffalo's skull, painted black. Savage ornaments were 
suspended in various parts of the edifice, and a great number 
of children's moccasons. From the magnitude of this building, 
and the time and labor that must have been expended in erect- 
ing it, the bodies which it contained were probably those of 
noted warriors and hunters, 

The next day, October 17th, they passed two large tributary 
streams of the Spanish Eiver. They took their rise in the 
Wind River Mountains, which ranged along to the east, stu- 
pendously high and rugged, composed of vast masses of black 
rock, almost destitute of wood, and covered in many places 
with snow. This day they saw a few buffalo bulls, and some 
antelopes, but could not kill any ; and their stock of provisions 
began to grow scanty as well as poor. 

On the 18th, after crossing a mountain ridge, and traversing 
a plain, they waded one of the branches of the Spanish River, 
and on ascending its bank, met with about a hundred and 
thirty Snake Indians. They were friendly in their demeanor, 
and conducted them to their encampment, which was about 
three miles distant. It consisted of about forty wigwams, con- 
structed principally of pine branches. The Snakes, like most 
of their nation, were very poor; the marauding Crows, in their 
late excursion through the country, had picked this unlucky 
band to the very bone, carrying off their horses, several of 



ASTORIA. 307 

their squaws, and most of their effects. In spite of their pov- 
erty, they were hospitable in the extreme, and made the 
hungry strangers welcome to their cabins. A few trinkets 
procured from them a supply of buffalo meat, and of leather 
for moccasons, of which the party were greatly in need. The 
most valuable prize obtained from them, however, was a 
horse ; it was a sorry old animal, in truth, but it was the only 
one that remained to the poor fellows, after the fell swoop of 
the Crows ; yet this they were prevailed upon to part with to 
their guests for a pistol, an axe, a knife, and a few other 
trifling articles. 

They had doleful stories to tell of the Crows, who were en- 
camped on a river at no great distance to the east, and were in 
such force that they dared not venture to seek any satisfac- 
tion for their outrages, or to get back a horse or squaw. They 
endeavored to excite the indignation of their visitors by ac- 
counts of robberies and murders committed on lonely white 
hunters and trappers by Crows and Blackfeet. Some of these 
were exaggerations of the outrages already mentioned, sus- 
tained by some of the scattered members of Mr. Hunt's expedi- 
tion ; others were in all probability sheer fabrications, to which 
the Snakes seem to have been a little prone. Mr. Stuart as- 
sured them that the day was not far distant when the whites 
would make their power to be felt throughout that country 
and take signal vengeance on the perpetrators of these mis- 
deeds. The Snakes expressed great joy at the intelligence, and 
offered their services to aid the righteous cause, brightening 
at the thoughts of taking the field with such potent allies, and 
doubtless anticipating their turn at stealing horses and abduct- 
ing squaws. Their offers of course were accepted ; the calumet 
of peace was produced, and the two forlorn powers smoked 
eternal friendship between themselves, and ' vengeance upon 
their common spoilers, the Crows. 



CHAPTER XLVIIL 

By sunrise on the following morning (October 19th), the 
travellers had loaded their old horse with buffalo meat, suffi- 
cient for five days' provisions, and, taking leave of their new 
allies, the poor but hospitable Snakes^ set forth in somewhat 



308 ASTORIA. 

better spirits, though the increasing cold of the weather and 
the sight of the snowy mountains which they had yet to 
traverse, were enough to chill their very hearts. The country 
along this branch of the Spanish River, as far as they could 
see, was perfectly level, bounded by ranges of lofty momv 
tains, both to the east and west. They proceeded about three 
miles to the south, where they came again upon the large trail 
of Crow Indians, which they had crossed four days previously, 
made, no doubt, by the same marauding band that had plun- 
dered the Snakes ; and which, according to the account of the 
latter, was now encamped on a stream to the eastward. The 
trail kept on to the southeast, and was so well beaten by horse 
and foot, that they supposed at least a hundred lodges had 
passed along it. As it formed, therefore, a convenient high- 
way, and ran in a proper direction, they turned into it, and 
determined to keep along it as far as safety would permit ; as 
the Crow encampment must be some distance off, and it was 
not likely those savages would return upon their steps. They 
travelled forward, therefore, all that day, in the track of their 
dangerous predecessors, which led them across mountain 
streams, and along ridges, and through narrow valleys, all 
tending generally toward the southeast. The wind blew coldly 
from the northeast, with occasional flurries of snow, which 
made them encamp early, on the sheltered banks of a brook. 
The two Canadians, Vallee and Le Clerc, killed a young 
buffalo bull in the evening, which was in good condition, 
and afforded them a plentiful supply of fresh beef. They 
loaded their spits, therefore, and crammed their camp kettle 
with meat, and while the wind whistled, and the snow 
whirled around them, huddled round a rousing fire, basked in 
warmth, and comforted both soul and body with a hearty and 
invigorating meal* No enjoyments have greater zest than 
these, snatched in the very midst of difficulty and danger; 
and it is probable the poor wayworn and weather-beaten 
travellers relished these creature comforts the more highly 
from the surrounding desolation, and the dangerous proximity 
of the Crows. 

The snow which had fallen in the night made it late in the 
morning before the party loaded their solitary pack-horse, and 
resumed their march. They had not gone far before the Crow 
trace which they were following changed its direction, and 
bore to the north of east. They had already began to feel 
themselves on dangerous ground in keeping along it, as they 



ASTORIA. 309 

might be descried by some scouts and spies of that race of 
Ishmaelites, whose predatory life required them to be con- 
stantly on the alert. On seeing the trace turn so much to the 
north, thereforth, they abandoned it, and kept on their course 
to the northeast for eighteen miles, through a beautifully un- 
dulating country, having the main chain of mountains on the 
left, and a considerably elevated ridge on the right. Here the 
mountain ridge which divides Wind Eiver from the head 
waters of the Columbia and Spanish Rivers ends abruptly, and 
winding to the north of east, becomes the dividing barrier be- 
tween a branch of the Big Horn and Cheyenne Rivers, and 
those head waters which flow into the Missouri below the 
Sioux country. 

The ridge which lay on the right of the travellers having now 
become very low, they passed over it, and came into a level 
plain about ten miles in circumference, and incrusted to the 
depth of a foot or eighteen inches with salt as white as snow. 
This is furnished by numerous salt springs of limpid water, 
which are continually welling up ; overflowing their borders 
and forming beautiful crystallizations. The Indian tribes of 
the interior are excessively fond of this salt, and repair to the 
valley to collect it, but it is held in distaste by the tribes of the 
sea-coast, who will eat nothing that has been cured or seasoned 
by it. 

This evening they encamped on the banks of a small stream, 
in the open prairie. The northeast wind was keen and cut- 
ting ; they had nothing wherewith to make a Are, but a scanty 
growth of sage, or wormwood, and were fain to wrap themselves 
up in their blankets, and huddle themselves in their " nests," 
at an early hour. In the course of the evening, Mr. M'Lellan, 
who had now regained his strength, killed a buffalo, but it 
was some distance from the camp, and they postponed supply- 
ing themselves from the carcass until the following morning. 

The next day (October 21st) the cold continued, accompanied 
by snow. They set forward on their bleak and toilsome way, 
keeping to the east-northeast, toward the lofty summit of a 
mountain, which it was necessary for them to cross. Before 
they reached its base they passed another large trail, steering 
a little to the right of the point of the mountain. This they 
presumed to have been made by another band of Crows, who 
had probably been hunting lower down on the Spanish River. 

The severity of the weather compelled them to encamp at 
the end of fifteen miles, on the skirts of the mountain, where 



310 ASTORIA, 

they found sufficient dry aspen trees to supply them with fire, 
but they sought in vain about the neighborhood for a spring 
or rill of water. 

At daybreak they were up and on the march, scrambling 
up the mountain side for the distance of eight painful miles. 
From the casual hints given in the travelling memoranda of 
Mr. Stuart, this mountain would seem to offer a rich field of 
speculation for the geologist. Here was a plain three miles 
in diameter, strewed with pumice stone and other volcanic 
reliques, with a lake in the centre, occupying what had prob- 
ably been the crater. Here were also, in some places, deposits 
of marine shells, indicating that this mountain crest had at 
some remote period been below the waves.. 

After pausing to repose, and to enjoy these grand but 
savage and awful scenes, they began to descend the eastern 
side of the mountain. The descent was rugged and romantic, 
along deep ravines and denies, overhung with crags and cliffs, 
among which they beheld numbers of the ahsahta or bighorn, 
skipping fearlessly from rock to rock. Two of them they suc- 
ceeded in bringing down with their rifles, as they peered fear- 
lessly from the brow of their airy precipices. 

Arrived at the foot of the mountain, the travellers found 
a rill of water oozing out of the earth, and resembling in look 
and taste the water of the Missouri. Here they encamped for 
the night, and supped sumptuously upon their mountain mut- 
ton, which they found in good condition, and extremely well 
tasted. 

The morning was bright and intensely cold. Early in the 
day they came upon a stream running to the east, between 
low hills of bluish earth, strongly impregnated with copperas. 
Mr. Stuart supposed this to be one of the head waters of the 
Missouri, and determined to follow its banks. After a march 
of twenty-six miles, however, he arrived at the summit of a 
hill, the prospect of which induced him to alter his intention. 
He beheld, in every direction south of east, a vast plain, 
bounded only by the horizon, through which wandered the 
stream in question, in a south-southeast direction. It could 
not, therefore, be a branch of the Missouri. He now gave up 
all idea of taking the stream for his guide, and shaped his 
course toward a range of mountains in the east, about sixty 
miles distant, near which he hoped to find another stream. 

The weather was now so severe, and the hardships of travel- 
ling so great, that he resolved to halt for the winter, at th9 



ASTORIA. 311 

first eligible place. That night they had to encamp on the 
open prairie, near a scanty pool of water, and without any 
wood to make a fire. The northeast wind blew keenly across 
the naked waste, and they were fain to decamp from their 
inhospitable bivouac before the dawn. 

For two days they kept on in an eastward direction, against 
wintry blasts and occasional snow storms. They suffered, 
also, from scarcity of water, having occasionally to use melted 
snow; this, with the want of pasturage, reduced their old 
pack-horse sadly. They saw many tracks of buffalo, and 
some few bulls, which, however, got the wind of them, and 
scampered off. 

On the 26th of October they steered east-northeast, for a 
wooded ravine, in a mountain at a small distance * from the 
base of which, to their great joy, they discovered an abundant 
stream, running between willowed banks. Here they halted 
for the night, and Ben Jones having luckily trapped a beaver, 
and killed two buffalo bulls, they remained all the next day 
encamped, feasting and reposing, and allowing their jaded 
horse to rest from his labors. 

The little stream on which they were encamped, was one 
of the head waters of the Platte River, which flows into the 
Missouri ; it was, in fact, the northern fork, or branch of that 
river, though this the travellers did not discover until long 
afterward. Pursuing the course of this stream for about 
twenty miles, they came to where it forced a passage through 
a range of high hills covered with cedars, into an extensive 
low country, affording excellent pasture to numerous herds of 
buffalo. Here they killed three cows, which were the first 
they had been able to get, having hitherto had to content 
themselves with bull beef, which at this season of the year is 
very poor. The hump meat afforded them a repast fit for an 
epicure. 

Late on the afternoon of the 30th they came to where the 
stream, now increased to a considerable size, poured along in 
a ravine between precipices of red stone, two hundred feet in 
height. For some distance it dashed along, over huge masses 
of rock, with foaming violence, as if exasperated by being 
compressed into so narrow a channel, and at length leaped 
down a chasm that looked dark and frightful in the gathering 
twilight. 

For a part of the next day, the wild river, in its capricious 
wanderings, led them through a variety of striking scenes, 



312 ASTORIA. 

At one time they were upon high plains, like platforms among 
the mountains, with herds of buffaloes roaming about them ; 
at another, among rude rocky defiles, broken into cliffs and 
precipices, where the black-tailed deer bounded off among the 
crags, and the bighorn basked on the sunny brow of the preci- 
pice. 

In the after part of the day they came to another scene, 
surpassing in savage grandeur those already described. They 
had been travelling for some distance through a pass of the 
mountains, keeping parallel with the river, as it roared along, 
out of sight, through a deep ravine. Sometimes their devious 
path approached the margin of cliffs below which the river 
foamed and boiled and whirled among the masses of rock that 
had fallen into its channel. As they crept cautiously on, lead- 
ing their solitary pack-horse along these giddy heights, they 
all at once came to where the river thundered down a succes- 
sion of precipices, throwing up clouds of spray, and making 
a prodigious din and uproar. The travellers remained, for a 
time, gazing with mingled awe and delight, at this furious 
cataract, to which Mr. Stuart gave, from the color of the 
impending rocks, the name of u The Fiery Narrows." 



CHAPTER XLIX. 



The travellers encamped for the night on the banks of the 
river below the cataract. The night was cold, with partial 
showers of rain and sleet. The morning dawned gloomily, the 
skies were sullen and overcast, and threatened further storms ; 
but the little band resumed their journey, in defiance of the 
weather. The increasing rigor of the season, however, which 
makes itself felt early in these mountainous regions, and on 
these naked and elevated plains, brought them to a pause, and 
a serious deliberation, after they had descended about thirty 
miles further along the course of the river. 

All were convinced that it was in vain to attempt to accom- 
plish their journey on foot at this inclement season. They 
had still many hundred miles to traverse before they should 
reach the main course of the Missouri, and their route would 
lay over immense prairies, naked and bleak, and destitute of 
fuel, The question then was* where to choose their wintering 



ASTORIA. 313 

place, and whether or not to proceed further down the river. 
They had at first imagined it to be one of the head waters, or 
tributary streams, of the Missouri. Afterward, they had 
believed it to be the Kapid, or Quicourt Eiver, in which 
opinion they had not come nearer to the truth; they now, 
however, were persuaded, with equal fallacy, by its inclining 
somewhat to the north of east, that it was the Cheyenne. If 
so, by continuing down it much further they must arrive 
among the Indians, from whom the river takes its name. 
Among these they would be sure to meet some of the Sioux 
tribe. These would apprise their relatives, the piratical Sioux 
of the Missouri, of the approach of a band of white traders ; so 
that, in the spring time, they would be likely to be waylaid 
and robbed on their way down the river, by some party in 
ambush upon its banks. 

Even should this prove to be the Quicourt or Eapid River, it 
would not be prudent to winter much further down upon its 
banks, as, though they might be out of the range of the Sioux, 
they would be in the neighborhood of the Poncas, a tribe 
nearly as dangerous. It was resolved, therefore, since they 
must winter somewhere on this side of the Missouri, to 
descend no lower, but to keep up in these solitary regions, 
where they would be in no danger of molestation. 

They were brought the more promptly and unanimously to 
this decision, by coming upon an excellent wintering place, 
that promised everything requisite for their comfort. It was 
on a fine bend of the river, just below where it issued out from 
among a ridge of mountains, and bent toward the northeast. 
Here was a beautiful low point of land, covered by cotton- 
wood, and surrounded by a thick growth of willow, so as to 
yield both shelter and fuel, as well as materials for building 
The river swept by in a strong current, about a hundred anW 
fifty yards wide. To the southeast were mountains of moder- 
ate height, the nearest about two miles off, but the whole chain 
ranging to the east, south, and southwest, as far as the eye 
could reach. Their summits were crowned with extensive 
tracts of pitch pine, checkered with small patches of the quiv- 
ering aspen. Lower down were thick forests of firs and red 
cedars, growing out in many places from the very fissures of 
the rocks. The mountains were broken and precipitous, with 
huge bluffs protruding from among the forests. Their rocky 
recesses and beetling cliffs afforded retreats to innumerable 
flocks of the bighorn, while their woody summits and ravines 



314 ASTORIA. 

abounded with bears and black-tailed deer. These, with the 
numerous herds of buffalo that ranged the lower grounds along 
the river, promised the travellers abundant cheer in their 
winter quarters. 

On the 2d of November, therefore, they pitched their camp for 
the winter, on the woody point, and their first thought was to 
obtain a supply of provisions. Ben Jones and the two Cana- 
dians accordingly sallied forth, accompanied by two others of 
the party, leaving but one to watch the camp. Their hunting 
was uncommonly successful. In the course of two days they 
killed thirty-two buffaloes, and collected their meat on the 
margin of a small brook, about a mile distant. Fortunately, a 
severe frost froze the river, so that the meat was easily trans- 
ported to the encampment. On a succeeding day, a herd of 
buffalo came trampling throught the woody bottom on the 
river banks, and fifteen more were killed. 

It was soon discovered, however, that there was game of a 
more dangerous nature in the neighborhood. On one occasion 
Mr. Crooks had wandered about a mile from the camp, and 
had ascended a small hill commanding a view of the river. 
He was without his rifle, a rare circumstance, for in these 
wild regions, where one may put up a wild animal, or a wild 
Indian, at every turn, it is customary never to stir from the 
camp-fire unarmed. The hill where he stood overlooked the 
place where the massacre of the buffalo had taken place. As 
he was looking around on the prospect his eye was caught by 
an object below, moving directly toward him. To his dismay 
he discovered it to be a grizzly bear, with two cubs. There 
was no tree at hand into which he could climb ; to run would 
only be to provoke pursuit, and he should soon be overtaken. 
He threw himself on the ground, therefore, and lay motionless, 
watching the movements of the animal with intense anxiety e 
It continued to advance until at the foot of the hill, when it 
turned, and made into the woods, having probably gorged it 
self with buffalo flesh. Mr. Crooks made all haste back to the 
camp, rejoicing at his escape, and determining never to stir 
out again without his rifle. A few days after this circum- 
stance, a grizzly bear was shot in the neighborhood by Mr. 
Miller. 

As the slaughter of so many buffaloes had provided the 
party with beef for the winter, in case they met with no 
further supply, they now set to work, heart and hand, to build 
a comfortable wigwam. In a little while the woody promon' 



ASTORIA. 315 

tory rang with the unwonted sound of the axe. Some of its 
lofty trees were laid low, and by the second evening the cabin 
was complete. It was eight feet wide, and eighteen feet long. 
The walls were six feet high, and the whole was covered 
with buffalo skins. The fireplace was in the centre, and the 
smoke found its way out by a hole in the roof. 

The hunters were next sent out to procure deer skins for 
garments, moccasons, and other purposes. They made the 
mountains echo with their rifles, and, in the course of two 
days' hunting, killed twenty-eight bighorns and black-tailed 
deer. 

The party now revelled in abundance. After all that they 
had suffered from hunger, cold, fatigue, and watchfulness; 
after all their perils from treacherous and savage men, they 
exulted in the snugness and security of their isolated cabin, 
hidden, as they thought, even from the prying eyes of Indian 
scouts, and stored with creature comforts; and they looked 
forward to a winter of peace and quietness ; of roasting, and 
boiling, and broiling, and feasting upon venison, and moun- 
tain mutton, and bear's meat, and marrow bones, and buffalo 
humps, and other hunter's dainties, and of dosing and reposing 
round their fire, and gossiping over past dangers and adven- 
tures, and telling long hunting stories, until spring should 
return ; when they would make canoes of buffalo skins and 
float themselves down the river. 

From such halcyon dreams they were startled one morning 
at daybreak, by a savage yell. They started up, and seized 
their rifles. The yell was repeated by two or three voices. 
Cautiously peeping out, they beheld, to their dismay, several 
Indian warriors among the trees, all armed and painted in 
warlike style; being evidently bent on some hostile purpose. 

Miller changed countenance as he regarded them. " We are 
in trouble," said he, ".these are some of the rascally Arapa- 
hays that robbed me last year. " Not a word was uttered by 
the rest of the party, but they silently slung their powder 
horns and ball pouches, and prepared for battle. M'Lellan, 
who had taken his gun to pieces the evening before, put it 
together in all haste. He proposed that they should break 
out the clay from between the logs, so as to be able to fire 
upon the enemy. 

"Not yet," replied Stuart; "it will not do to show fear or 
distrust; we must first hold a parley. Some one must go out 
and meet them as a friend." 



316 ASTOBIA. 

Who was to undertake the task? it was full of peril, as the 
envoy might be shot down at the threshold. 

u The leader of a party," said Miller, " always takes the ad 
vance." 

"Good!" replied Stuart; "I am ready." He immediately 
went forth; one of the Canadians followed him; the rest of 
the party remained in garrison, to keep the savages in check. 

Stuart advanced holding his rifle in one hand, and extending 
the other to the savage that appeared to be the chief. The 
latter stepped forward and took it ; his men followed his ex- 
ample, and all shook hands with Stuart, in token of friendship. 
They now explained their errand. They were a war party of 
Arapahay braves. Their village lay on a stream several days' 
journey to the eastward. It had been attacked and ravaged 
during their absence, by a band of Crows, who had carried off 
several of their women and most of their horses. They were in 
quest of vengeance. For sixteen days they had been tracking 
the Crows about the mountains, but had not yet come upon 
them. In the meantime they had met with scarcely any game, 
and were half famished. About two days previously, they 
had heard the report of firearms among the mountains, and on 
searching in the direction of the sound, had come to a place 
where a deer had been killed. They had immediately put 
themselves upon the track of the hunters, and by following it 
up, had arrived at the cabin. 

Mr. Stuart now invited the chief and another, who appeared 
to be his lieutenant, into the hut, but made signs that no one 
else was to enter. The rest halted at the door ; others came 
straggling up, until the whole party, to the number of twenty- 
three, were gathered before the hut. They were armed with 
bows and arrows, tomahawks, and scalping knives, and some 
few with guns. All were painted and dressed for war, and 
had a wild and fierce appearance. Mr. Miller recognized 
among them some of the very fellows who had robbed him in 
the preceding year; and put his comrades upon their guard. 
Every man stood ready to resist the first act of hostility; 
the savages, however, conducted themselves peaceably, and 
showed none of that swaggering arrogance which a war party 
is apt to assume. 

On entering the hut the chief and his lieutenant cast a wist- 
ful look at the rafters, laden with venison and buffalo meat. 
Mr. Stuart made a merit of necessity, and invited them to help 
themselves. They did not wait to be pressed. The rafter* 



ASTOBIA. 317 

were soon eased of their burden-, venisor and beef were passed 
out to the crew before the door, and a scene of gormandizing 
commenced, of which few can have an idea, who have not 
witnessed the' gastronomic powers of an Indian, after an in- 
terval of fasting. This was kept up throughout the day ; they 
paused now and then, it is true, for a brief interval, but only 
to return to the charge with renewed ardor. The chief and 
the lieutenant surpassed all the rest in the vigor and persever- 
ance of their attacks ; as if, from their station, they were 
boimd to signalize themselves in all onslaughts. Mr. Stuart 
kept them well supplied with choice bits, for it was his policy 
to overfeed them, and keep them from leaving the hut, where 
they served as hostages for the good conduct of their followers. 
Once, only, in the course of the day, did the chief sally forth. 
Mr. Stuart and one of his men accompanied him, armed with 
their rifles, but without betraying any distrust. The chieftain 
soon returned, and renewed his attack upon the larder. In a 
word, he and his worthy coadjutor, the lieutenant, ate until 
they were both stupefied. 

Toward the evening the Indians made their preparations for 
the night according to the practice of war parties. Those out- 
side of the hut threw up two breastworks, into which they re- 
tired at a tolerably early hour, and slept like overfed hounds. 
As to the chief and his lieutenant, they passed the night in the 
hut, in the course of which, they, two or three times, got up to 
eat. The travellers took turns, one at a time, to mount guard 
until the morning. 

Scarce had the day dawned, when the gormandizing was re- 
newed by the whole band, and carried on with surprising vigor 
until ten o'clock, when all prepared to depart. They had six 
days' journey yet to make, they said, before they should come 
up with the Crows, who they understood were encamped on a 
river to the northward. Their way lay through a hungry 
country where there was no game; they would, moreover, 
have but little time to hunt; they, therefore, craved a small 
supply of provisions for their journey. Mr. Stuart again in- 
vited them to help themselves. They did so with keen fore- 
thought, loading themselves with the choicest parts of the 
meat, and leaving the late plenteous larder far gone in a con- 
sumption. Their next request was for a supply of ammunition, 
having guns, but no powder and ball. They promised to pay 
magnificently out of the spoils of their foray. ' l We are poor 
now," said they, "and are obliged to go on foot, but we shaU 



318 ASTORIA. 

soon come back laden with booty, and all mounted on horse 
back, with scalps hanging at our bridles. We will then give 
each of you a horse to keep you from being tired on your 
journey." 

" Well," said Mr. Stuart, "when you bring the horses, you 
shall have the ammunition, but not before." The Indians saw 
by his determined tone, that all further entreaty would be un- 
availing, so they desisted, with a good-humored laugh, and 
went off exceedingly well freighted, both within and without, 
promising to be back again in the course of a fortnight. 

No sooner were they out of hearing, than the luckless travel- 
lers held another council. The security of their cabin was at 
an end, and with it all their dreams of a quiet and cosy winter. 
They were between two fires. On one side were their old 
enemies, the Crows, on the other side, the Arapahays, no less 
dangerous freebooters. As to the moderation of this war 
party, they considered it assumed, to put them off their guard 
against some more favorable opportunity for a surprisal. It 
was determined, therefore, not to await their return, but to 
abandon, with all speed, this dangerous neighborhood. From 
the accounts of their recent visitors, they were led to believe, 
though erroneously, that they were upon the Quicourt, or 
Rapid River. They proposed now to keep along it to its con- 
fluence with the Missouri ; but, should they be prevented by 
the rigors of the season from proceeding so far, at least to 
reach a part of the river where they might be able to construct 
canoes of greater strength and durability than those of buffalo 
skins. 

Accordingly, on the 13th of December, they bade adieu, with 
many a regret, to their comfortable quarters, where, for five 
weeks, they had been indulging the sweets of repose, of plenty, 
and of fancied security. They were still accompanied by theii 
veteran pack-horse, which the Arapahays had omitted to steal, 
either because they intended to steal him on their return, or 
because they thought him not worth stealing. 



CHAPTER L. 



The interval of comfort and repose which the party had en- 
joyed in their wigwam, rendered the renewal of their fatigues 
intolerable for the first two or three days. The snow lay deep. 



ASTORIA. 319 

and was slightly frozen on the surface, but not sufficiently to 
bear their weight. Their feet became sore by breaking through 
the crust, and their limbs weary by floundering on without 
firm foothold. So exhausted and dispirited were they, that 
they began to think it would be better to remain and run the 
risk of being killed by the Indians, than to drag on thus pain- 
fully, with the probability of perishing by the way. Their 
miserable horse fared no better than themselves, having for 
the first day or two no other fodder than the ends of willow 
twigs, and the bark of the cotton- wood tree. 

They al], however, appeared to gain patience and hardihood 
as they proceeded, and for fourteen days kept steadily on, 
making a distance of about three hundred and thirty miles. 
For some days the range of mountains which had been near 
to their wigwam kept parallel to the river at no great distance, 
but at length subsided into hills. Sometimes they found the 
river bordered with alluvial bottoms, and groves with cotton- 
wood and willows ; sometimes the adjacent country was naked 
and barren. In one place it ran for a considerable distance 
between rocky hills and promontories covered with cedar and 
pitch pines, and peopled with the bighorn and the mountain 
deer ; at other places it wandered through prairies well stocked 
with buffaloes and antelopes. As they descended the course of 
the river, they began to perceive the ash and white oak here 
and there among the cotton- wood and willow; and at length 
caught a sight of some wild horses on the distant prairies. 

The weather was various ; at one time the snow lay deep ; 
then they had a genial day or two, with the mildness and 
serenity of autumn ; then, again, the frost was so severe that 
the river was sufficiently frozen to bear them upon the ice. 

During the last three days of their fortnight's travel, howv 
ever, the face of the country changed. The timber gradually 
diminished, until they could scarcely find fuel sufficient for 
culinary purposes. The game grew more and more scanty, and, 
finally, none were to be seen but a few miserable broken-down 
buffalo bulls, not worth killing. The snow lay fifteen inches 
deep, and made the travelling grievously painful and toilsome. 
At length, they came to an immense plain, where no vestige of 
timber was to be seen ; nor a single quadruped to enliven the 
desolate landscape. Here, then, their hearts failed them, and 
they held another consultation. The width of the river, which 
was upward of a mile, its extreme shallowness, the frequency 
of quicksands, and various oth^characteristics, had at length 



320 ASTORIA. 

made them sensible of their errors with respect to it, and they 
now came to the correct conclusion, that they were on the 
banks of the Platte or Shallow Biver. What were they to do? 
Pursue its course to the Missouri? To go on at this season of 
the year seemed dangerous in the extreme. There was no 
prospect of obtaining either food or firing. The country was 
destitute of trees, and though there might be drift-wood along 
the river, it lay too deep beneath the snow for them to find it. 

The weather was threatening a change, and a snow-storm on 
these boundless wastes might prove as fatal as a whirlwind of 
sand on an Arabian desert. After much dreary deliberation, 
it was at length determined to retrace their three last days' 
journey of seventy-seven miles, to a place which they had re- 
marked where there was a sheltering growth of forest trees, 
and a country abundant in game. Here they would once more 
set up their winter quarters, and await the opening of the navi- 
gation to launch themselves in canoes. 

Accordingly, on the 27th of December, they faced about, re- 
traced their steps, and on the 30th, regained the part of the 
river in question. Here the alluvial bottom was from one to 
two miles wide, and thickly covered with a forest of cotton- 
wood trees ; while herds of buffalo were scattered about the 
neighboring prairie, several of which soon fell beneath theii 
rifles. 

They encamped on the margin of the river, in a grove where 
there were trees large enough for canoes. Here they put up a 
shed for immediate shelter, and immediately proceeded to erect 
a hut. New Year's day dawned when, as yet, but one wall of 
their cabin was completed ; the genial and jovial day, however, 
was not permitted to pass uncelebrated, even by this weather- 
beaten crew of wanderers. All work was suspended, except 
that of roasting and boiling. The choicest of the buffalo meat, 
with tongues, and humps, and marrow bones, were devoured 
in quantities that would astonish any one that has not lived 
among hunters or Indians ; and as an extra regale, having no 
tobacco left, they cut up an old tobacco pouch, still redolent 
With the potent herb, and smoked it in honor of the day. Thus 
for a time, in present revelry, however uncouth, they forgot 
all past troubles and all anxieties about the future, and their 
forlorn wigwam echoed to the sound of gayety. 

The next day they resumed their labors, and by the 6th of 
the month it was complete. They soon killed abundance of 
buffalo, and again laid in a stock of winter provisions. 



ASTORIA. 321 

The party were more fortunate in this their second canton- 
ment. The winter passed away without any Indian visitors, 
and the game continued to be plenty in the neighborhood. 
They felled two large trees, and shaped them into canoes ; and, 
as the spring opened, and a thaw of several days' continuance 
melted the ice in the river, they made every preparation for 
embarking. On the 8th of March they launched forth in their 
canoes, but soon found that the river had not depth sufficient 
•ven for such slender barks. It expanded into a wide but ex- 
tremely shallow stream, with many sand-bars, and occasionally 
various channels. They got one of their canoes a few miles 
down it, with extreme difficulty, sometimes wading and drag- 
ging it over the shoals; at length they had to abandon the 
attempt, and to resume their journey on foot, aided by their 
faithful old pack-horse, who had recruited strength during 
the repose of the winter. 

The weather delayed them for a few days, having suddenly 
become more rigorous than it had been at any time during the 
winter; but on the 20th of March they were again on their 
journey. 

In two days they arrived at the vast naked prairie, the win- 
try aspect of which had caused them, in December, to pause 
and turn back. It was now clothed in the early verdure of 
spring, and plentifully stocked with game. Still, when obliged 
to bivouac on its bare surface, without any shelter, and by a 
scanty fire of dry buffalo dung, they found the night blasts 
piercing cold. On one occasion a herd of buffalo straying near 
their evening camp, they killed three of them merely for their 
hides, wherewith to make a shelter for the night. 

They continued on for upward of a hundred miles; with 
vast prairies extending before them as they advanced ; some- 
times diversified by undulating hills, but destitute of trees. 
In one place they saw a gang of sixty-five wild horses, but as 
to the buffaloes, they seemed absolutely to cover the country. 
Wild geese abounded, and they passed extensive swamps that 
were alive with innumerable flocks of water-fowl, among 
which were a few swans, but an endless variety of ducks. 

The river continued a winding course to the east-northeast, 
nearly a mile in width, but too shallow to float even an empty 
canoe. The country spread out into a vast level plain, bounded 
by the horizon alone, excepting to the north, where a line of 
hills seemed like a long promontory, stretching into the bosom 
of the ocean. The dreary sameness of the prairie wastes begaK 



322 ASTOBIA. 

to grow extremely irksome. The travellers longed for the 
sight of a forest or grove, or single tree, to break the level uni- 
formity, and began to notice every object that gave reason to 
hope they were drawing toward the end of this weary wilder- 
ness. Thus the occurrence of a particular kind of grass was 
hailed as a proof that they could not be far from the bottoms 
of the Missouri; and they were rejoiced at putting up several 
prairie hens, a kind of grouse seldom found far in the interior. 
In picking up drift-wood for fuel, also, they found on some 
pieces the mark of an axe, which caused much speculation as 
to the time when and the persons by whom the trees had been 
felled. Thus they went on like sailors at sea, who perceive in 
every floating weed and wandering bird, harbingers of the 
wished-for land. 

By the close of the month the weather became very mild, 
and, heavily burdened as they were, they found the noontide 
temperature uncomfortably warm. On the 30th, they came to 
three deserted hunting camps, either of Pawnees or Ottoes, 
about which were buffalo skulls in all directions; and the 
frames on which the hides had been stretched and cured. 
They had apparently been occupied the preceding autumn. 

For several days they kept patiently on, watching every 
sign that might give them an idea as to where they were, and 
how near to the banks of the Missouri. 

Though there were numerous traces of hunting parties and 
encampments, they were not of recent date. The country 
seemed deserted. The only human beings they met with were 
three Pawnee squaws, in a hut in the midst of a deserted 
camp. Their people had all gone to the south, in pursuit of 
the buffalo, and had left these poor women behind, being too 
sick and infirm to travel. 

It is a common practice with the Pawnees, and probably 
with other roving tribes, when departing on a distant expedi- 
tion, which will not admit of incumbrance or delay, to leave 
their aged and infirm with a supply of provisions sufficient for 
a temporary subsistence. When this is exhausted they must 
perish; though sometimes their sufferings are abridged by 
hostile prowlers who may visit the deserted camp. 

The poor squaws in question expected some such fate at the 
hands of the white strangers, and though the latter accosted 
them in the kindest manner, and made them presents of dried 
buffalo meat, it was impossible to soothe their alarm or get 
any information from them. 



ASTORIA, 323 

The first landmark by which the travellers were enabled to 
conjecture their position with any degree of confidence, was 
an island about seventy miles in length, w^hich they presumed 
to be Grand Isle. If so, they were within one hundred and 
forty miles of the Missouri. They kept on, therefore, with 
renewed spirit, and at the end of three days met with an Otto 
Indian, by whom they were confirmed in their conjecture. 
They learnt at the same time another piece of information, of 
an uncomfortable nature. According to his account, there 
was war between the United States a,nd England, and in fact 
it had existed for a whole year, during which time they had 
been beyond the reach of all knowledge of the affairs of the 
civilized world. 

The Otto conducted the travellers to his village, situated a 
short distance from the banks of the Platte. Here they were 
delighted to meet with two white men, Messrs. Dornin and Hoi, 
Indian traders recently from St. Louis. Of these they had a 
thousand inquiries to make concerning all affairs, foreign and 
domestic, during their year of sepulture in the wilderness ; and 
especially about the events of the existing war. 

They now prepared to abandon their weary travel by land, 
and to embark upon the water. A bargain was made with 
Mr. Dornin, who engaged to furnish them with a canoe and 
provisions for the voyage, in exchange for their venerable and 
well-tried fellow-traveller, the old Snake horse. 

Accordingly, in a couple of days, the Indians employed by 
that gentleman constructed for them a canoe twenty feet long, 
four feet wide, and eighteen inches deep. The frame was of 
poles and willow twigs, on which were stretched five elk and 
buffalo hides, sewed together with sinews, and the seams 
payed with unctuous mud. In this they embarked at an early 
hour on the 16th of April, and drifted down ten miles with the 
stream, when the wind being high they encamped, and set to 
work to make oars, which they had not been able to procure 
at the Indian village. 

Once more afloat, they went merrily down the stream, and 
after making thirty-five miles, emerged into the broad turbid 
current of the Missouri. Here they were borne along briskly 
by the rapid stream, though, by the time their fragile bark 
had floated a couple of hundred miles, its frame began to show 
the effects of the voyage. Luckily they came to the deserted 
wintering place of some hunting party, where they found two 
old wooden canoes. Taking possession of the largest, they 



324 ASTORIA. 

again committed themselves to the current, and after dropping 
down fifty-five miles further, arrived safely at Fort Osage. 

Here they found Lieutenant Brownson still in command; the 
officer who had given the expedition a hospitable reception on 
its way up the river, eighteen months previously. He re- 
ceived this remnant of the party with a cordial welcome, and 
endeavored in every way to promote their comfort and enjoy 
ment during their sojourn at the fort. The greatest luxury 
they met with on their return to the abode of civilized man, 
was bread, not having tasted any for nearly a year. 

Their stay at Fort Osage was but short. On re-embarking 
they were furnished with an ample supply of provisions by the 
kindness of Lieutenant Brownson, and performed the rest of 
their voyage without adverse circumstance. On the 30th of 
April they arrived in perfect health and fine spirits at St. 
Louis, having been ten months in performing this perilous ex- 
pedition from Astoria. Their return caused quite a sensation 
at the place, bringing the first intelligence of the fortune of Mr. 
Hunt and his party in their adventurous route across the 
Eocky Mountains, and of the new establishment on the shores 
of the Pacific. 



CHAPTER LI. 



It is now necessary, in linking together the parts of this ex- 
cursive narrative, that we notice the proceedings of Mr. Astor, 
in support of his great undertaking. His project with respect 
to the Russian establishments along the northwest coast had 
been diligently prosecuted. The agent sent by him to St. 
Petersburgh, to negotiate in his name as president of the 
American Fur Company, had, under sanction of the Russian 
Government, made a provisional agreement with the Russian 
company. 

By this agreement, which was ratified by Mr. Astor in 1813, 
the two companies bound themselves not to interfere with 
each other's trading and hunting grounds, nor to furnish arms 
and ammunition to the Indians. They were to act in concert, 
also, against all interlopers, and to succor each other in case of 
danger. The American company was to have the exclusive 
right of supplying the Russian posts with goods and neces- 



ASTORIA. 325 

saries, receiving peltries in payment at stated prices. They 
were also, if so requested by the Russian governor, to convey 
the furs of the Russian company to Canton, sell them on com- 
mission, and bring back the proceeds, at such freight as might 
be agreed on at the time. This agreement was to continue in 
operation four years, and to be renewable for a similar term, 
unless some unforeseen contingency should render a modifica- 
tion necessary. 

It was calculated to be of great service to the infant estab- 
lishment at Astoria ; dispelling the fears of hostile rivalry on 
the part of the foreign companies in its neighborhood, and giv- 
ing a formidable blow to the irregular trade along the coast. 
It was also the intention of Mr. Astor to have coasting vessels 
of his own, at Astoria, of small tonnage and draft of water, 
fitted for coasting service. These having a place of shelter 
and deposit, could ply about the coast in short voyages, in 
favorable weather, and would have vast advantage over 
chance ships, which must make long voyages, maintain numer- 
ous crews, and could only approach the coast at certain seasons 
of the year. He hoped, therefore, gradually to make Astoria 
the great emporium of the American fur trade in the Pacific, 
and the nucleus of a powerful American state. Unfortunately 
for these sanguine anticipations, before Mr. Astor had ratified 
the agreement, as above stated, war broke out between the 
United States and Great Britain. He perceived at once the 
peril of the case. The harbor of New York would doubtless 
be blockaded, and the departure of the annual supply ship in 
the autumn prevented ; or, if she should succeed in getting out 
to sea, she might be captured on her voyage. 

In this emergency, he wrote to Captain Sowle, commander 
of the Beaver. The letter, which was addressed to him at Can- 
ton, directed him to proceed to the factory at the mouth of the 
Columbia, with such articles as the establishment might need ; 
and to remain there, subject to the orders of Mr. Hunt, should 
that gentleman be in command there. 

The war continued, no tidings had yet been received from 
Astoria ; the dispatches having been delayed by the misadven- 
ture of Mr. Reed at the falls of the Columbia, and the unhors- 
ing of Mr. Stuart by the Crows among the mountains. A pain- 
ful uncertainty, also, prevailed about Mr. Hunt and his party. 
Nothing had been heard of them since their departure from 
the Arickara village; Lisa, who parted them there, had pre- 
dicted their destruction ; and some of the traders of the North* 



326 ASTORIA. 

west Company had actually spread a rumor of their having 
been cut oif by the Indians. 

It was a hard trial of the courage and means of an individ- 
ual, to have to fit out another costly expedition, where so 
much haa already been expended, so much uncertainty pre- 
vailed, and where the risk of loss was so greatly enhanced, that 
no insurance could be effected. 

In spite of all these discouragements, Mr. Astor determined 
to send another ship to the relief of the settlement. He 
selected tor this purpose a vessel called the Lark, remarkable 
for her fast sailing. The disordered state of the times, how- 
ever, caused such a delay, that February arrived, while the 
vessel was yet lingering in port. 

At this juncture Mr. Astor learnt that the Northwest Com- 
pany were preparing to send out an armed ship of twenty 
guns, called the Isaac Todd, to form an establishment at the 
mouth of the Columbia. These tidings gave him great uneasi- 
ness. A considerable proportion of the persons in his employ 
were Scotchmen and Canadians, and several of them had been 
in the service of the Northwest Company. Should Mr. Hunt 
have failed to arrive at Astoria, the whole establishment would 
be under the control of Mr. M'Dougal, of whose fidelity he had 
received very disparaging accounts from Captain Thorn. The 
British Government, also, might deem it worth while to send a 
force against the establishment, having been urged to do so 
some time previously by the Northwest Company. 

Under all these circumstances, Mr. Astor wrote to Mr. Mon- 
roe, then Secretary of State, requesting protection from the 
Government of the United States. He represented the import- 
ance of this settlement, in a commercial point of view, and the 
shelter it might afford to the American vessels in those seas. 
All he asked was, that the American Government would throw 
forty or fifty men into the fort at his establishment, which 
would be sufficient for its defence, until he could send rein- 
forcements overland. 

He waited in vain for a reply to his letter, the Government, 
no doubt, being engrossed at the time, by an overwhelming 
crowd of affairs. The month of March arrived, and the Lark 
was ordered by Mr. Astor to put to sea. The officer who was 
to command her shrunk from his engagement, and in the ex- 
igency of the moment she was given in charge to Mr. North- 
rop, the mate. Mr. Nicholas G. Ogden, a gentlemen on whose 
talents and integrity the highest reliance could be placed, sailed 



ASTORIA. 327 

as supercargo. The Lark put to sea in the beginning of March, 
1813/ 

By this opportunity Mr. Astor wrote to Mr. Hunt, as head 
of the establishment at the mouth of the Columbia, for he 
would not allow himself to doubt of his welfare. "I always 
think you are well," said he, " and that I shall see you again, 
which heaven, I hope, will grant." 

He warned him to be on his guard against any attempts to 
surprise the post ; suggesting the probability of armed hostility 
on the part of the Northwest Company, and expressing his in- 
dignation at the ungrateful returns made by that association 
for his frank and open conduct, and advantageous overtures. 
" Were I on the spot," said he, "and had the management of 
affairs, I would defy them all; but, as it is, everything de- 
pends upon you and your friends about you. Our enterprise 
is grand, and deserves success, and I hope in God it ivill meet 
it. If my object was merely gain of money, I should say, 
think whether it is best to save what we can, and abandon the 
place; but the very idea is like a dagger to my heart." This ex- 
tract is sufficient to show the spirit and the views which actu- 
ated Mr. Astor in this great undertaking. 

Week after week and month after month elapsed, without 
anything to dispel the painful incertitude that hung over every 
part of this enterprise. Though a man of resolute spirit, and 
not easily cast down, the dangers impending over this darling 
scheme of his ambition, had a gradual effect upon the spirits of 
Mr. Astor. He was sitting one gloomy evening by his window 
revolving over the loss of the Tonquin, and the fate of her un- 
fortunate crew, and fearing that some equally tragical calami- 
ty might have befallen the adventurers across the mountains, 
when the evening newspaper was brought to him. The first 
paragraph that caught his eye, announced the arrival of Mr. 
Stuart and his party at St. Louis, with intelligence that Mr. 
Hunt and his companions had effected their perilous expedi- 
tion to the mouth of the Columbia. This was a gleam of sun- 
shine that for a time dispelled every cloud, and he now looked 
forward with sanguine hope to the accomplishment of all hi§ 
plans. 



328 ASTORIA. 



CHAPTEE LII. 

The course of our narrative now takes us back to the regions 
beyond the mountains, to dispose of the parties that set out 
from Astoria in company with Mr. Robert Stuart, and whom 
he left on the banks of the Wallah- Wallah. Those parties like- 
wise separated from each other shortly after his departure, 
proceeding to their respective destinations, but agreeing to 
meet at the mouth of the Wallah- Wallah, about the beginning 
of June in the following year, with such peltries as they should 
have collected in the interior, so as to convoy each other 
through the dangerous passes of the Columbia. 

Mr. David Stuart, one of the partners, proceeded with his 
men to the post already established by him at the mouth of the 
Oakinagan; having furnished this with goods and ammuni- 
tion, he proceeded three hundred miles up that river, where he 
established another post in a good trading neighborhood. 

Mr. Clarke, another partner, conducted his little band up 
Lewis River to the mouth of a small stream coming in from 
the north, to which the Canadians gave the name of the Pav- 
ion. Here he found a village or encampment of forty huts or 
tents, covered with mats, and inhabited by Nez Perces, or 
pierced-nose Indians, as they are called by the traders; but 
Chipunnish, as they are called by themselves. They are a 
hardy, laborious, and somewhat knavish race, who lead a pre- 
carious life, fishing and digging roots during the summer and 
autumn, hunting the deer on snow shoes during the winter, 
and traversing the Rocky Mountains in the spring, to trade for 
buffalo skins with the hunting tribes of the Missouri. In these 
migrations they are liable to be waylaid and attacked by the 
Blackfeet, and other warlike and predatory tribes, and driven 
back across the mountains with the loss of their horses, and of 
many of their comrades. 

A life of this unsettled and precarious kind is apt to render 
men selfish, and such Mr. Clarke found the inhabitants of this 
village, who were deficient in the usual hospitality of Indians ; 
parting with everything with extreme reluctance, and showing 
no sensibility to any act of kindness. At the time of his ar- 
rival they were all occupied in catching and curing salmon, 



ASTOBIA. 329 

The men were stout, robust, active, and good looking, and the 
women handsomer than those of the tribes nearer the coast. 

It was the plan of Mr. Clarke to lay up his boats here, and 
proceed by land to his place of destination, which was among 
the Spokan tribe of Indians, about a hundred and fifty miles 
distant. He accordingly endeavored to purchase horses for 
the journey, but in this he had to contend with the sordid dis= 
position of these people. They asked high prices for their 
horses, and were so difficult to deal with, that Mr. Clarke was 
detained seven days among them before he could procure a 
sufficient number. During that time he was annoyed by re- 
peated pilferings, for which he could get no redress. The chief 
promised to recover the stolen articles ; but failed to do so, al- 
leging that the thieves belonged to a distant tribe, and had 
made off with their booty. With [this excuse Mr. Clarke was 
fain to content himself, though he laid up in his heart a bitter 
grudge against the whole pierced-nose race which as will be 
found he took .occasion subsequently to gratify in a signal 
manner. 

Having made arrangements for his departure, Mr. Clarke 
laid up his barge and canoes in a sheltered place, on the banks 
of a small bay, overgrown with shrubs and willows, confiding 
them to the care of the Nez Perce chief, who, on being prom- 
ised an ample compensation, engaged to have a guardian eye 
upon them ; then mounting his steed, and putting himself at 
the head of his little caravan, he shook the dust off his feet as 
he turned his back upon this village of rogues and hard deal- 
ers. We shall not follow him minutely in his journey ; which 
lay at times over steep and rocky hills, and among crags and 
precipices ; at other times over vast naked and sunburnt plains, 
abounding with rattlesnakes, in traversing which, both men and 
horses suffered intolerably from heat and thirst. The place on 
which he fixed for a trading post, was a fine point of land, at 
the junction of the Pointed Heart and Spokan Rivers. His es- 
tablishment was intended to compete with a trading post of the 
Northwest Company, situated at no great distance, and to 
rival it in the trade with the Spokan Indians ; as well as with 
the Cootonais and Flatheads. In this neighborhood we shall 
leave him for the present. 

Mr. M'Kenzie, who conducted the third party from the Wa T 
lah- Wallah, navigated for several days up the south branch of 
the Columbia, named the Camoenum by the natives, but com- 
monly called Lewis River, in honor of the first explorer. Wax* 



830 ASTORIA. 

dering bands of various tribes were seen along this river, trav- 
elling in various directions; for the Indians generally are 
restless, roving beings, continually intent on enterprises of 
war, traffic, and hunting. Some of these people were driving 
large gangs of horses, as if to a distant market. Having ar- 
rived at the mouth of the Shahaptan, he ascended some dis- 
tance up that river, and established his trading post upon its 
banks. This appeared to be a great thoroughfare for the tribes 
from the neighborhood of the falls of the Columbia, in their 
expeditions to make war upon the tribes of the Rocky Moun- 
tains; to hunt buffalo on the plains beyond, or to traffic for 
roots and buffalo robes. It was the season of migration, and 
the Indians from various distant parts were passing and re- 
passing in great numbers. 

Mr, M'Kenzie now detached a small band, under the con- 
duct of Mr. John Reed, to visit the caches made by Mr. Hum; 
at the Caldron Linn, and to bring the contents to his post , an 
he depended in some measure on them for his supplies of gGods 
and ammunition. They had not been gone a week when two 
Indians arrived of the Pallatapalla tribe, who live upon * river 
of the same name. These communicated the unwelcome in- 
telligence that the caches had been robbed. They said that 
some of their tribe had, in the course of the preceding spring, 
been across the mountains which separated them from Snake 
River, and had traded horses with the Snakes in exchange for 
blankets, robes, and goods of various descriptions. These arti- 
cles the Snakes had procured from caches to which they were 
guided by some white men who resided among them, and wh» 
afterward accompanied them across the Rocky Mountains. 
This intelligence was extremely perplexing to Mr. M'Kenzie, 
but the truth of part of it was confirmed by the two Indians, 
who brought them an English saddle and bridle, which was 
recognized as having belonged to Mr. Crooks. The perfidy of 
the white men who revealed the secret of the caches, was, 
however, perfectly inexplicable. We shall presently account 
for it in narrating the expedition of Mr. Reed. 

That worthy Hibernian proceeded on his mission with his 
usual alacrity. His forlorn travels of the preceding winter 
had made him acquainted with the topography of the country, 
and he reached Snake River without any material difficulty. 
Here in an encampment of the natives, he met with six white 
men, wanderers from the main expedition of Mr. Hunt, who, 
after having had their respective shares of adventures and 



ASTORIA. 331 

mishaps, had fortunately come together at this place. Three 
of these men were Turcotte, La Chapelle, and Francis Landry ; 
the three Canadian voyageurs, who, it may be recollected, had 
left Mr. Crooks in February, in the neighborhood of Snake 
River, being dismayed by the increasing hardships of the jour- 
ney, and fearful of perishing of hunger. They had returned 
to a Snake encampment, where they passed the residue of the 
winter. 

Early in the spring, being utterly destitute, and in great ex- 
tremity, and having worn out the hospitality of the Snakes, 
they determined to avail themselves of the buried treasures 
within their knowledge. They accordingly informed the 
Snake chieftains that they knew where a great quantity of 
goods had been left in caches, enough to enrich the whole 
tribe; and offered to conduct them to the place, on condi- 
tion of being rewarded with horses and provisions. The chief- 
tains pledged their faith and honor as great men and Snakes, 
and the three Canadians conducted them to the place of de- 
posit at the Caldron Linn. This is the way that the savages 
got knowledge of the caches, and not by following the tracks 
of wolves, as Mr. Stuart had supposed. Never did money dig- 
gers turn 'up a miser's hoard with more eager delight than did 
the savages lay open the treasures of the caches. Blankets 
and robes; brass trinkets and blue beads were drawn forth 
with chuckling exultation, and long strips of scarlet cloth pro- 
duced yells of ecstasy, 

The rifling of the caches effected a change in the fortunes 
and deportment of the whole party. The Snakes were better 
equipped and clad than ever were Snakes before, and the three 
Canadians, suddenly finding themselves with horse to ride and 
weapon to wear, were, like beggars on horseback, ready to 
ride on any wild scamper. An opportunity soon presented. 
The Snakes determined on a hunting match on the buffalo 
prairies, to lay in a supply of beef, that they might live in 
plenty, as became men of tneir improved condition. The 
three newly mounted cavaliers must fain accompany them. 
They all traversed the Rocky Mountains in safety, descended 
to the head waters of the Missouri, and made great havoc 
among the buffaloes. 

Their hunting camp was full of meat; they were gorging 
themselves, like true Indians, with present plenty, and dry- 
ing and jerking great quantities for a winter's supply. In the 
midst of their revelry and good cheer, the camp was surprised 



332 ASTORIA. 

by the Blackfeet. Several of the Snakes were slain on the 
spot ; the residue, with their three Canadian allies, fled to the 
mountains, stripped of horses, buffalo meat, everything; and 
made their way back to the old encampment on Snake Eiver, 
poorer than ever, but esteeming themselves fortunate in hav- 
ing escaped with their lives. They had not been long there 
when the Canadians were cheered by the sight of a companion 
in misfortune, Dubreuil, the poor voyageur who had left Mr. 
Crooks in March, being too much exhausted to keep on with 
him. Not long afterward, three other straggling members of 
the main expedition made their appearance. These were Car- 
son, St. Michael, and Pierre Delaunay, three of the trappers, 
who, in company with Pierre Detaye, had been left among the 
mountains by Mr. Hunt, to trap beaver, in the preceding 
month of September. They had departed from the main 
body well armed and provided, with horses to ride, and 
horses to carry the peltries they were to collect. They came 
wandering into the Snake camp as ragged and destitute as 
their predecessors. It appears that they had finished their 
trapping, and were making their way in the spring to the 
Missouri, when they were met and attacked by a powerful 
band of the all-pervading Crows. They made a desperate re- 
sistance, and killed seven of the savages, but were overpow- 
ered by numbers. Pierre Detaye was slain, the rest were 
robbed of horses and effects, and obliged to turn back, when 
they fell in with their old companions, as already mentioned. 

We should observe, that at the heels of Pierre Delaunay 
came draggling an Indian wife, whom he had picked up in his 
wanderings ; having grown weary of celibacy among the sav- 
ages. 

The whole seven of this forlorn fraternity of adventurers, 
thus accidentally congregated on the banks of Snake Eiver, 
were making arrangements once more to cross the mountains, 
when some Indian scouts brought word of the approach of the 
little band headed by John Eeed. 

The latter, having heard the several stories of these wander- 
ers, took them all into his party, and set out for the Caldron 
Linn, to clear out two or three of the caches which had not 
been revealed to the Indians. 

At that place he met with Eobinson, the Kentucky veteran, 
who with his two comrades, Eezner and Hoback, had remained 
there when Mr. Stuart went on. This adventurous trio had 
been trapping higher up the river, but Eobinson had come 



ASTORIA. 333 

down in a canoe, to await the expected arrival of the party, 
and obtain horses and equipments. He told Eeed the story of 
the robbery of his party by the Arapahays, but it differed, in 
some particulars, from the account given by him to Mr. Stuart. 
In that he had represented Cass as having shamefully deserted 
his companions in their extremity, carrying off with him a 
horse ; in the one now given he spoke of him as having been 
killed in the affray with the Arapahays. This discrepancy, of 
which, of course, Eeed could have had no knowledge at the 
time, concurred with other circumstances, to occasion after- 
ward some mysterious speculations and dark surmises, as to 
the real fate of Cass ; but as no substantial grounds were ever 
adduced for them, we forbear to throw any deeper shades into 
this story of sufferings in the wilderness. 

Mr. Eeed having gathered the remainder of the goods from 
the caches, put himself at the head of his party, now augmented 
by the seven men thus casually picked up, and the squaw of 
Pierre Delaunay, and made his way successfully to M'Kenzie's 
Post, on the waters of the Shahaptan. 



CHAPTEE LIII. 



After the departure of the different detachments or brigades, 
as they are called by the fur traders, the Beaver prepared for 
her voyage along the coast, and her visit to the Eussian estab- 
lishment, at New Archangel, where she was to carry supplies. 
It had been determined in the council of partners at Astoria, 
that Mr. Hunt should embark in this vessel, for the purpose of 
acquainting himself with the coasting trade, and of making 
arrangements with the commander of the Eussian post, and 
that he should be relanded in October, at Astoria, by the 
Beaver, on her way to the Sandwich Islands, and Canton. 

The Beaver put to sea in the month of August. Her depart- 
are, and thpt of the various brigades, left the fortress of Astoria 
but slightly garrisoned. This was soon perceived by some of 
the Indian tribes, and the consequence was increased insolence 
of deportment, and a disposition to hostility. It was now the 
fishing season, when the tribes from the northern coast drew 
into the neighborhood of the Columbia. These were warlike 
and perfidious in their dispositions; and noted for their at* 



334 ASTORIA. 

tempts to surprise trading ships. Among them were numbers 
of the Neweetees, the ferocious tribe that massacred the crew 
of the Tonquin. 

Great precautions, therefore, were taken at the factory to 
guard against surprise while these dangerous intruders were 
in the vicinity. Galleries were constructed inside of the pali- 
sades ; the bastions were heightened, and sentinels were posted 
day and night. Fortunately, the Chinooks and other tribes 
resident in the vicinity manifested the most pacific disposition. 
Old Comcomly, who held sway over them, was a shrewd calcu- 
lator. He was aware of the advantages of having the whites 
as neighbors and allies, and of the consequence derived to him- 
self and his people from acting as intermediate traders between 
them and the distant tribes. He had, therefore, by this time, 
become a firm friend of the Astorians, and formed a kind of 
barrier between them and the hostile intruders from the north. 

The summer of 1812 passed away without any of the hostili- 
ties that had been apprehended; the Neweetees, and other 
dangerous visitors to the neighborhood, finished their fishing 
and returned home, and the inmates of the factory once more 
felt secure from attack. 

It now became necessary to guard against other evils. The 
season of scarcity arrived, which commences in October, and 
lasts until the end of January. To provide for the support of 
the garrison, the shallop was employed to forage about the 
shores of the river. A number of the men, also, under the com- 
mand of some of the clerks, were sent to quarter themselves 
on the banks of the Wollamut (the Multnomah of Lewis and 
Clarke), a fine river which disembogues itself into the Columbia, 
about sixty miles above Astoria. The country bordering on 
the river is finely diversified with prairies and hills, and forests 
of oak, ash, maple, and cedar. It abounded, at that time, with 
elk and deer, and the streams were well stocked with beaver. 
Here the party, after supplying their own wants, were enabled 
to pack up quantities of dried meat, and send it by canoes to 
Astoria. 

The month of October elapsed without the return of the 
Beaver. November, December, January, passed away, and 
still nothing was seen or heard of her. Gloomy apprehensions 
now began to be entertained ; she might have been wrecked in 
the course of her coasting voyage, or surprised, . like the Ton- 
quin, by some of the treacherous tribes of the north. 

No one indulged more in these apprehensions than M'Dougal, 



ASTORIA. 335 

who had now the charge of the establishment. He no longer 
evinced the bustling confidence and buoyancy which once 
characterized him. Command seemed to have lost its charms 
for him, or rather, he gave way to the most abject despond- 
ency, decrying the whole enterprise, magnifying every un- 
toward circumstance, and foreboding nothing but evil. 

While in this moody state, he was surprised, on the 16th of 
January, by the sudden appearance of M'Kenzie, wayworn and 
weather-beaten by a long wintry journey from his post on the 
Shahaptan, and with a face the very frontispiece for a volume 
of misfortune. M'Kenzie had been heartily disgusted and dis- 
appointed at his post. It was in the midst of the Tushepaws, 
a powerful and warlike nation, divided into many tribes, 
under different chiefs, who possessed innumerable horses, but, 
not having turned their attention to beaver trapping, had no 
furs to offer. According to M'Kenzie they were but a ' ' rascally 
tribe ;" from which we may infer that they were prone to con- 
sult their own interests, more than comported with the inter- 
ests of a greedy Indian trader. 

Game being scarce, he was obliged to rely, for the most part, 
on horse-flesh for subsistence, and the Indians discovering his 
necessities, adopted a policy usual in civilized trade, and raised 
the price of horses to an exorbitant rate, knowing that he and 
his men must eat or die. In this way, the goods he had 
brought to trade for beaver skins, were likely to be bartered 
for horse-flesh, and all the proceeds devoured upon the spot. 

He had dispatched trappers in various directions, but the 
country around did not offer more beaver than his own sta- 
tion. In this emergency he began to think of abandoning his 
unprofitable post, sending his goods to the posts of Clarke and 
David Stuart, who could make a better use of them, as they 
were in a good beaver country, and returning with his party 
to Astoria, to seek some better destination. With this view, 
he repaired to the post of Mr. Clarke, to hold a consultation. 
While the two partners were in conference in Mr. Clarke's 
wigwam, an unexpected visitor came bustling in upon them. 

This was Mr. John George M'Tavish, a partner of the North- 
west Company, who had charge of the rival trading posts 
established in that neighborhood. Mr. M'Tavish was the de- 
lighted messenger of bad news. He had been to Lake Winni- 
peg, where he received an express from Canada, containing 
the de Varation of war, and President Madison's proclamation, 
which he handed with the most officious complaisance to 



336 ASTOBIA. 

Messrs. Clarke and M'Kenzie. He moreover told them that he 
had received a fresh supply of goods from the northwest posts 
on the other side of the Rocky Mountains, and was prepared 
for vigorous opposition to the establishment of the American 
Company. He capped tbe climax of this obliging, but bellig- 
erent intelligence, by informing them that the armed ship, 
Isaac Todd, was to be at the mouth of the Columbia about the 
beginning of March, to get possession of the trade of the river, 
and that he was ordered to join her there at that time. 

The receipt of this news determined M'Kenzie. He imme- 
diately returned to the Shahaptan, broke up his establishment^ 
deposited his goods in cache, and hastened, with all his people, 
to Astoria. 

The intelligence thus brought, completed t>e dismay of 
M'Dougal, and seemed to produce a complete confusion of 
mind. He held a council of war with M'Kenzie, at which 
some of the clerks were present, but of course had no votes. 
They gave up all hope of maintaining their post at Astoria. 
The Beaver had probably been lost ; they could receive nc> aid 
from the United States, as all ports would be blockaded. 
From England nothing could be expected but hostility. It 
was determined, therefore, to abandon the establishment in 
the course of the following spring, and return across the Rocky 
Mountains. 

In pursuance of this resolution, they suspended all trade 
with the natives, except for provisions, having already more 
peltries than they could carry away, and having need of all 
the goods for the clothing and subsistence of their people 
during the remainder of their sojourn, and on their journey 
across the mountains. Their intention of abandoning Astoria 
was, however, kept secret from the men, lest they should at 
once give up all labor, and become restless and insubordinate. 

In the meantime, M'Kenzie set off for his post at the Sha- 
haptan, to get his goods from the caches, and buy horses and 
provisions with them for the caravan across the mountains, 
He was charged with dispatches from M'Dougal to Messrs. 
Stuart and Clarke, apprizing them of the intended migration, 
that they might make timely preparations. 

M'Kenzie was accompanied by two of the clerks, Mr. John 
Reed, the Irishman, and Mr. Alfred Seton, of New York. 
They embarked in two canoes, manned by seventeen men, and 
ascended the river without any incident of importance, until 
they arrived in the eventful neighborhood of the rapids. They 



ASTORIA. 337 

made the portage of the narrows and the falls early in the 
afternoon, and. having partaken of a scanty meal, had now a 
long evening on their hands. 

On the opposite side of the river lay the village of Wish- 
ram, of freebooting renown. Here lived the savages who had 
robbed and maltreated Reed, when bearing his tin box of 
dispatches. It was known that the rifle of whicn he was 
despoiled was retained as a trophy at the village. M'Kenzie 
offered to cross the river, and demand the rifle, if any one 
would accompany him. It was a hair-brained project, for 
these villages were noted for the ruffian character of their 
inhabitants; yet two volunteers promptly stepped forward; 
Alfred Seton, the clerk, and Joe de la Pierre, the cook. The 
trio soon reached the opposite side of the river. On 'landing 
they freshly primed their rifles and pistols. A path winding 
for about a hundred yards among rocks and crags, led to the 
village. No notice seemed to be taken of their approach. Not 
a solitary being, man, woman, or child greeted them. The 
very dogs, those noisy pests of an Indian town, kept silence. 
On entering the village, a boy made his appearance, and 
pointed to a house of larger dimensions than the rest. They 
had to stoop to enter it ; as soon as they had passed the thresh- 
old, the narrow passage behind them was filled up by a sudden 
rush of Indians, who had before kept out of sight. 

M'Kenzie and his companions found themselves in a rude 
chamber of about twenty-five feet long, and twenty wide. A 
bright fire was blazing at one end, near which sat the chief, 
about sixty years old. A large number of Indians, wrapped 
in buffalo robes, were squatted in rows, three deep, forming a 
semicircle round three sides of the room. A single glance 
around sufficed to show them the grim and dangerous assem- 
bly into which they had intruded, and that all retreat was cut 
off by the mass which blocked up the entrance. 

The chief pointed to the vacant side of the room opposite to 
the door, and motioned for them to take their seats. They 
complied. A dead pause ensued. The grim warriors around 
sat like statues ; each muffled in his robe, with his fierce eyes 
bent on the intruders. The latter felt they were in a perilous 
predicament. 

"Keep your eyes on the chief while I am addressing him,' 1 
said M'Kenzie to his companions. ' ' Should he give any sigi? 
to his band, shoot him, and make for the door." 

M'Kenzie advanced, and offered the pipe of peace to the 



338 ASTOBIA. 

chief, but it was refused. He then made a regular speech, 
explaining the object of their visit, and proposing to give m 
exchange for the rifle two blankets, an axe, some beads, and 
tobacco. 

When he had done the chief rose, began to address him in a 
low voice, but soon became loud and violent, and ended by 
working himself up into a furious passion. He upbraided the 
white men for their sordid conduct in passing and repassing 
through their neighborhood, without giving them .a blanket 
or any other article of goods, merely because they had no 
furs to barter in exchange ; and he alluded with menaces of 
vengeance, to the death of the Indian killed by the whites in 
the skirmish at the falls. 

Matters were verging to a crisis. It was evident the sur- 
rounding savages were only waiting a signal from the chief to 
spring upon their prey. M'Kenzie and his companions had 
gradually risen on their feet during the speech, and had 
brought their rifles to a horizontal position, the barrels resting 
in their left hands ; the muzzle of M'Kenzie's piece was within 
three f eet^of the speaker's heart. They cocked their rifles ; the 
click of the locks for a moment suffused the dark cheek of the 
savage, and there was a pause. They coolly, but promptly ad- 
vanced to the door; the Indians fell back in awe, and suffered 
them to pass. The sun was just setting as they emerged from 
this dangerous den. They took the precaution to keep along 
the tops of the rocks as much as possible on their way back to 
the canoe, and reached their camp in safety, congratulating 
themselves on their escape, and feeling no desire to make a 
second visit to the grim warriors of Wish-ram. 

M'Kenzie and his party resumed their journey the next 
morning. At some distance above the falls of the Columbia, 
they observed two bark canoes, filled with white men, coming 
down the river, to the full chant of a set of Canadian voy- 
ageurs. A parley ensued. It was a detachment of north- 
westers, under the command of Mr. John George M'Tavish, 
bound, full of song and spirit, to the mouth of the Columbia, 
to await the arrival of the Isaac Todd. 

Mr. M'Kenzie and M'Tavish came to a halt, and landing, en* 
camped together for the night. The voyageurs of either party 
hailed each other as brothers, and old " comrades," and they 
mingled together as if united by one common interest, instead 
of belonging to rival companies^ and trading under hostile 
flags. 



ASTORIA. 339 

In the morning they proceeded on their different ways, in 
style corresponding to their different fortunes, the one toiling 
painfully against the stream, the other sweeping down gayly 
with the current. 

M'Kenzie arrived safely at his deserted post on the Shahap- 
tan, but found, to his chagrin, that his caches had been dis* 
covered and rifled by the Indians. Here was a dilemma, for 
on the stolen goods he had depended to purchase horses of the 
Indians, He sent out men in all directions to endeavor to 
discover the thieves, and dispatched Mr. Reed to the posts of 
Messrs. Clarke and David Stuart, with the letters of Mr. 
M'Dougal. 

The resolution announced in these letters, to break up and 
depart from Astoria, was condemned by both Clarke and 
Stuart. These two gentlemen had been very successful at their 
posts, and considered it rash and pusillanimous to abandon, on 
the first difficulty, an enterprise of such great cost and ample 
promise. They made no arrangements, therefore, for leaving 
the country, but acted with a view to the maintenance of their 
new and prosperous establishments. 

The regular time approached, when the partners of the in- 
terior posts were to rendezvous at the mouth of the Wallah- 
Wallah, on their way to Astoria, with the peltries they had 
collected. Mr. Clarke accordingly packed all his furs on 
twenty-eight horses, and leaving a clerk and four men to 
take charge of the post, departed on the 25th of May with the 
residue of his force. 

On the 30th he arrived at the confluence of the Pavion and 
Lewis Rivers, where he had left his barge and canoes, in the 
guardianship of the old Pierced-nose chieftain. That dignitary 
had acquitted himself more faithfully of his charge than Mr. 
Clarke had expected, and the canoes were found in very tol- 
erable order. Some repairs were necessary, and while they 
were making, the party encamped close by the village. 
Having had repeated and vexatious proofs of the pilfering pro- 
pensities of this tribe during his. former visit, Mr. Clarke 
ordered that a wary eye should be kept upon them. 

He was a tall, good-looking man, and somewhat given to 
pomp and circumstance, which made him an object of note in 
the eyes of the wondering savages. He was stately, too, in. his 
appointments, and had a silver goblet or drinking cup, out of 
which he would drink with a magnificent air, and then lock it 
up in a large garde vin, which accompanied him in his taavels, 



340 ASTORIA. 

and stood in his tent. This goblet had originally been sent as a 
present from Mr. Astor to Mr. M'Kay, the partner who had 
unfortunately been blown up in the Tonquin. As it reached 
Astoria after the departure of that gentleman, it had remained 
in the possession of Mr. Clarke. 

A silver goblet was too glittering a prize not to catch the 
aye of a Pierced-nose. It was like the shining tin case of John 
Reed, Such a wonder had never been seen in the land before. 
The Indians talked about it to one another. They marked the 
oare with which it was deposited in the garde vin, like a relic 
in its shrine, and concluded that it must be a " great medi- 
cine. " That night Mr. Clarke neglected to lock up his treasure ; 
in the morning the sacred casket was open — the precious relic 
gone ! 

Clarke was now outrageous. All the past vexations that he 
had suffered from this pilfering community rose to mind, and 
he threatened that, unless the goblet was promptly returned, 
he would hang the thief should he eventually discover him. 
The day passed away, however, without the restoration of 
the cup. At night sentinels were secretly posted about the 
camp. With all their vigilance a Pierced-nose contrived to 
get into the camp unperceived, and to load himself with booty ; 
it was only on his retreat that he was discovered and taken. 

At daybreak the culprit was brought to trial, and promptly 
convicted. He stood responsible for all the spoliations of the 
camp, the precious goblet among the number, and Mr. Clarke 
passed sentence of death upon him. 

A gibbet was accordingly constructed of oars ; the chief of 
the village and his people were assembled and the culprit was 
produced, with his legs and arms pinioned. Clarke then made 
a harangue. He reminded the tribe of the benefits he had be- 
stowed upon them during his former visits, and the many 
thefts and other misdeeds which he had overlooked. The 
prisoner especially had always been peculiarly well treated by 
the white men, but had repeatedly been guilty of pilfering. 
He was to be punished for. his own misdeeds, and as a warning 
to his tribe. 

The Indians now gathered round Mr. Clarke and interceded 
for the culprit. Thev were willing he should be punished 
severely, but implored that his lif e might be spared. The com- 
panions, too, of Mr. Clarke considered the sentence too severe, 
and advised him to mitigate it ; but he was inexorable. He 
was not naturally a stern or cruel man ; but from his boyhood 



ASTORIA. 341 

he had lived in the Indian country among Indian traders, and 
held the life of a savage extremely cheap. He was, moreover, 
a firm believer in the doctrine of intimidation. 

Farnham, a clerk, a tall " Green Mountain boy" from Ycr 
mont, who had been robbed of a pistol, acted as executioner. 
The signal was given, and the poor Pierced-nose, resisting, 
struggling, and screaming, in the most frightful manner, was 
launched into eternity. The Indians stood round gazing in 
silence and mute awe, but made no attempt to oppose the exe- 
cution, nor testified any emotion when it was over. They 
locked up their feelings within their bosoms until an oppor- 
tunity should arrive to gratify them with a bloody act of 
vengeance. 

To say nothing of the needless severity of this act; its im- 
policy was glaringly obvious. Mr. M'Lennan and three men 
were to return to the post with the horses, their loads having 
been transferred to the canoes. They would have to pass 
through a tract of country infested by this tribe, who were all 
horsemen and hard riders, and might pursue them to take 
vengeance for the death of their comrade. M'Lennan, however, 
was a resolute fellow, and made light of all dangers. He and 
his three men were present at the execution, and set off as soon 
as life was extinct in the victim ; but, to use the words of one 
of their comrades, " they did not let the grass grow under the 
heels of their horses, as they clattered out of the Pierced-nose 
country," and were glad to find themselves in safety at the 
post. 

Mr. Clarke and his party embarked about the same time in 
their canoes, and early on the following day reached the 
mouth of the Wallah- Wallah, where they found Messrs. Stuart 
and M'Kenzie awaiting thern ; the latter having recovered part 
of the goods stolen from his cache. Clarke informed them 
of the signal punishment he had inflicted on the Pierced-nose, 
evidently expecting to excite their admiration by such a hardy 
act of justice, performed in the very midst of the Indian coun- 
try, but was mortified at finding it strongly censured as inhu- 
man, unnecessary, and likely to provoke hostilities. 

The parties thus united formed a squadron of two boats and 
six canoes, with which they performed their voyage in safety 
down the river, and arrived at Astoria on the 12th of June, 
bringing with them a valuable stock of peltries. 

About ten days previously, the brigade which had been 
quartered on the banks of the Wollamut, had arrived with 



342 ASTORIA, 

numerous packs of beaver, the result of a few months' sojourn 
on that river. These were the first fruits of the enterprise, 
gathered by men as yet mere strangers in the land ; but they 
were such as to give substantial grounds for sanguine antici- 
pations of profit, when the country should be more completely 
explored, and the trade established. 



CHAPTER LIV. 



The partners found Mr. M'Dougal in all the bustle of prepa- 
ration ; having about nine days previously announced at the 
factory, hia intention of breaking up the establishment, and 
fixed upon the 1st of July for the time of departure. Messrs. 
Stuart and Clarke felt highly displeased at his taking so pre- 
cipitate a step, without waiting for their concurrence, when he 
must have known that their arrival could not be far distant. 

Indeed, the whole conduct of Mr. M'Dougal was such as to 
a,waken strong doubts as to his loyal devotion to the cause. 
His old sympathies with the Northwest Company seemed to 
have revived. He had received M'Tavish and his party with 
uncalled-for hospitality, as though they were friends and allies, 
instead of being a party of observation, come to reconnoitre 
the state of affairs at Astoria, and to await the arrival of a 
hostile ship. Had they been left to themselves, they would 
have been starved off for want of provisions, or driven away 
by the Chinooks, who only wanted a signal from the factory 
to treat them as intruders and enemies. M'Dougal, on the con- 
trary, had supplied them from the stores of the garrison, and 
had gained them the favor of the Indians, by treating them as 
friends. 

Having set his mind fixedly on the project of breaking up 
the establishment at Astoria, in the current year, M'Dougal was 
sorely disappointed at finding that Messrs. Stuart and Clarke 
had omitted to comply with his request to purchase horses and 
provisions for the caravan across the mountains. It was now 
too late to make the necessary preparations in time for trav- 
ersing the mountains before winter, and the project had to be 
postponed. 

In the meantime,, the non-arrival of the annual ship, and the 
apprehensions entertained of the loss of the Beaver, and of Mr. 



ASTORIA. 343 

Hunt, had their effect upon the minds of Messrs. Stuart and 
Clarke. They began to listen to the desponding representa- 
tions of M'Dougal, seconded by M'Kenzie, who inveighed 
against their situation as desperate and forlorn ; left to shift 
for themselves, or perish upon a barbarous coast ; neglected by 
those who sent them there, and threatened with dangers of 
eve?y kind. In this way they were brought to consent to the 
plan of abandoning the coimtry in the ensuing year. 

About this time, M'Tavish applied at the factory to purchase 
a small supply of goods wherewith to trade his way back to his 
post on the upper waters of the Columbia, having waited in 
vain for the arrival of the Isaac Todd. His request brought 
on a consultation among the partners. M'Dougal urged that 
it should be complied with. He furthernore proposed, that 
they should give up to M'Tavish, for a proper consideration, 
the post on the Spokan, and all its dependencies, as they had 
not sufficient goods on hand to supply that post themselves, 
and to keep up a competition with the Northwest Company in 
the trade with the neighboring Indians. This last representa- 
tion has since been proved incorrect. By inventories, it ap- 
pears that their stock in hand for the supply of the interior 
posts, was superior to that of the Northwest Company ; so that 
they had nothing to fear from competition. 

Through the influence of Messrs. M'Dougal and M'Kenzie, 
this proposition was adopted, and was promptly accepted by 
M'Tavish. The merchandise sold to him amounted to eight 
hundred and fifty-eight dollars, to be paid for, in the following 
spring, in horses, or in any other manner most acceptable to 
the partners at that period. 

This agreement being concluded, the partners formed their 
plans for the year that they would yet have to pass in the 
country. Their objects were, chiefly, present subsistence, and 
the purchase of horses for the contemplated journey, though 
they were likewise to collect as much peltries as their dimin- 
ished means would command. Accordingly, it was arranged 
that David Stuart should return to his former post on the 
Oakinagan, and Mr. Clarke should make his sojourn among 
the Flatheads. John Eeed, the sturdy Hibernian, was to un- 
dertake the Snake River country, accompanied by Pierre 
Dorion and Pierre Delaunay, as hunters, and Francis Landry, 
Jean Baptiste Turcotte, Andre La Chapelle, and Gilles le Clerc, 
Canadian voyageurs. 

Astoria, however, was the post about which they felt the 



344 ASTOBIA. 

greatest solicitude, and on which they all more or less depended, 
The maintenance of this in safety throughout the coming year, 
was, therefore, their grand consideration. Mr. M'Dougal was 
to continue in command of it, with a party of forty men. They 
would have to depend chiefly upon the neighboring savages for 
their subsistence. These, at present, were friendly, but it was 
to be feared that, when they should discover the exigencies of 
the post, and its rea" weakness, they might proceed to hostili 
ties ; or, at any rate, might cease to furnish their usual supplies. 
It was important, therefore, to render the place as independent 
as possible, of the surrounding tribes for its support ; and it was 
accordingly resolved that M'Kenzie, with four hunters, and 
eight common men, should winter in the abundant country of 
Wollamut, from whence they might be enabled to furnish a 
constant supply of provisions to Astoria. 

As there was too great a proportion of clerks for the number 
of privates in the service, the engagements of three of them, 
Eoss Cox, Eoss, and M'Lennan, were surrendered to them, and 
they immediately enrolled themselves in the service of the 
Northwest Company ; glad, no doubt, to escape from what they 
considered a sinking ship. 

Having made all these arrangements, the four partners, on 
the first of July, signed a formal manifesto, stating the alarm- 
ing state of their affairs, from the non-arrival of the annual ship, 
and the absence and apprehended loss of the Beaver, their 
want of goods, their despair of receiving any further supply, 
their ignorance of the coast, and their disappointment as to 
the interior trade, which they pronounced unequal to the ex- 
penses incurred, and incompetent to stand against the powerful 
apposition of the Northwest Company. And as by the 16th 
article of the company's agreement, they were authorized to 
abandon this undertaking and dissolve the concern, if before 
the period of five years it should be found unprofitable, they 
now formally announced their intention to do so on the 1st day 
of June, of the ensuing year, unless in the interim they 
should receive the necessary support and supplies from Mr. 
Astor, or the stockholders, with orders to continue. 

This instrument, accompanied by private letters of similar 
import, was delivered to Mr, M'Tavish, who departed on the 
5th of July. He engaged to forward the dispatches to Mr. 
Astor, by the usual winter express sent overland by the North- 
west Company. 

The manifesto was signed with great reluctance by Messrs. 



ASTORIA- 345 

Clarke and D. Stuart, whose experience by no means justified 
the discouraging account given in it of the internal trade, and 
who considered the main difficulties of exploring an unknown 
and savage country, and of ascertaining the best trading and 
trapping grounds, in a great measure overcome. They were 
overruled, however, by the urgent instances of M'Dougal and 
M'Kenzie, who, having resolved upon abandoning the enter- 
•orise, were desirous of making as strong a case as possible to 
excuse their conduct to Mr. Astor and to the world. 



CHAPTER LV. 



While difficulties and disasters had been gathering about 
the infant settlement of Astoria, the mind of its projector at 
New York was a prey to great anxiety. The ship Lark, dis- 
patched by him with supplies for the establishment, sailed on 
the 6th of March, 1813. Within a fortnight afterward, he re- 
ceived intelligence which justified ail his apprehensions of 
hostility on the part of the British. The Northwest Company 
had made a second memorial to that government, representing 
Astoria as an American establishment, stating the vast scope of 
its contemplated operations, magnifying the strength of its for- 
tifications, and expressing their fears, that, unless crushed in 
the bud, it would effect the downfall of their trade. 

Influenced by these representations, the British Government 
ordered the frigate Phoebe to be detached as a convoy for the 
armed ship, Isaac Todd, which was ready to sail with men and 
munitions for forming a new establishment. They were to 
proceed together to the mouth of the Columbia, capture or de- 
stroy whatever American fortress they should find there, and 
plant the British flag on its ruins. 

Informed of these movements, Mr. Astor lost no time in 
addressing a second letter to the Secretary of State, communi- 
cating this intelligence, and requesting it might be laid before 
the President; as no notice, however, had been taken of his 
previous letter, he contented himself with this simple communi- 
cation, and made no further application for aid. 

Awakened now to the danger that menaced the establishment 
at Astoria, and aware of the importance of protecting this foot- 
hold of American commerce and empire on the shores of the 



346 ASTORIA. 

Pacific, the government determined to send the frigate Adams, 
Captain Crane, upon this service. On hearing of this deter- 
mination, Mr. Astor immediately proceeded to fit out a ship 
called the Enterprise, to sail in company with the Adams, 
freighted with additional supplies and reinforcements for 
Astoria. 

About the middle of June, while in the midst of these pre 
parations, Mr. Astor received a letter from Mr. R. Stuart 
dated St. Louis, May 1st, confirming the intelligence already 
received through the public newspapers, of his safe return, and 
of the arrival of Mr. Hunt and his party at Astoria, and giving 
the most flattering accounts of the prosperity of the enterprise. 

So deep had been the anxiety of Mr. Astor, for the success of 
this great object of his ambition, that this gleam of good news 
was almost overpowering. "I felt ready," said he, "to fall 
upon my knees in a transport of gratitude." 

At the same time he heard that the Beaver had made good 
her voyage from New York to the Columbia. This was addi- 
tional ground of hope for the welfare of the little colony. The 
post being thus relieved and strengthened with an American at 
its head, and a ship of war about to sail for its protection, the 
prospect for the future seemed full of encouragement, and Mr. 
Astor proceeded, with fresh vigor, to fit out his merchant ship. 

Unfortunately for Astoria, this bright gleam of sunshine was 
soon overclouded. Just as the Adams had received her com- 
plement of men, and the two vessels were ready for sea, news 
came from Commodore Chauncey, commanding on Lake On- 
tario, that a reinforcement of seamen was wanted in that 
quarter. The demand was urgent, the crew of the Adams was 
immediately transferred to that service, and the ship was laid 
up. 

This was a most ill-timed and discouraging blow, but Mr. 
Astor would not yet allow himself to pause in his undertaking. 
He determined to send the Enterprise to sea alone, and let her 
take the chance of making her unprotected way across the 
ocean. Just at this time, however, a British force made its 
appearance off the Hook, and the port of New York was effec- 
tually blockaded. To send a ship to sea under these circum- 
stances would be to expose her to almost certain capture. The 
Enterprise was, therefore, unloaded and dismantled, and Mr 
Astor was obliged to comfort himself with the hope that the 
Lark might reach Astoria in safety, and that, aided by her 
supplies and by the good management of Mr. Hunt and his as* 



ASTORIA. 347 

sociates, the little colony might be able to maintain itself un + ' T 
the return of peace. 



CHAPTER LVI. 



We have hitherto had so much to relate of a gloomy and 
disastrous nature, that it is with a feeling of momentary relief 
we turn to something of a more pleasing complexion, and re- 
cord the first, and indeed only nuptials in high life that took 
place in the infant settlement of Astoria. 

M'Dougal, who appears to have been a man of a thousand 
projects, and of great though somewhat irregular apabition, 
suddenly conceived the idea of seeking the hand of one of the 
native princesses, a daughter of the one eyed potentate Com 
comly, who held sway over the fishing tribe of the Chinooks, 
and had long supplied the factory with smelts and sturgeons. 

Some accounts give rather a romantic origin to this affair, 
tracing it to the stormy night when M'Dougal, in the course of 
an exploring expedition, was driven by stress of weather to 
seek shelter in the royal abode of Comcomly. Then and there 
he was first struck with the charms of this piscatory princess, 
as she exerted herself to entertain her father's guest. 

The u journal of Astoria," however, which was kept under 
his own eye, records this union as a high state alliance, and 
great stroke of policy. The factory had to depend, in a great 
measure, on the Chinooks for provisions. They were at pres- 
ent friendly, but it was to be feared they would prove other- 
wise, should they discover the weakness and the exigencies of 
the post, and the intention to leave the country. This alliance, 
therefore, would infallibly rivet Comcomly to the interests of 
the Astorians, and with him the powerful tribe of the Chinooks. 
Be this as it may, and it is hard to fathom the real policy of 
governors and princes, M'Dougal dispatched two of the clerks 
as ambassadors extraordinary, to wait upon the one-eyed 
chieftain, and make overtures for the hand of his daughter. 

The Chinooks, though not a very refined nation, have notions 
of matrimonial arrangements that would not disgrace the most 
refined sticklers for settlements and pin money. The suitor re- 
pairs not to the bower of his mistress, but to her father's lodge, 
and throws down a present at his feet. His wishes are then 
disclosed by some discrr^t fvi ^ employed by him for the 



348 ASTORIA. 

purpose. If the suitor and his present find favor in the eyes of 
the father, he breaks the matter to his daughter, and inquires 
into the state of her inclinations. Should her answer be favor- 
able, the suit is accepted, and the lover has to make further 
presents to the father, of horses, canoes, and other valuables 
according to the beauty and merits of the bride ; looking for- 
ward to a return in kind whenever they shall go to house 
keeping. 

We have more than once had occasion to speak of the 
shrewdness of Comcomly; but never was it exerted more 
adroitly than on this occasion. He was a great friend of 
M'Dougal, and pleased with the idea of having so distinguished 
a son-in-law; but so favorable an opportunity of benefiting 
his own fortune was not likely to occur a second time, and he 
determined to make the most of it. Accordingly, the negotia- 
tion was protracted with true diplomatic skill. Conference 
after conference was held with the two ambassadors; Com- 
comly was extravagant in his terms, rating the charms of his 
daughter at the highest price, and indeed she is represented as 
having one of the flattest and most aristocratical heads in the 
tribe. At length the preliminaries were all happily adjusted. 
On the 20th of July, early in the afternoon, a squadron of 
canoes crossed over from the village of the Chinooks, bearing 
the royal family of Comcomly, and all his court. 

That worthy sachem landed in princely state, arrayed in a 
bright blue blanket and red breech-clout, with an extra 
quantity of paint and feathers, attended by a train of half- 
naked warriors and nobles. A horse was in waiting to receive 
the princess, who was mounted behind one of the clerks, and 
thus conveyed, coy but compliant, to the fortress. Here she 
was received with devout though decent joy, by her expecting 
bridegroom. 

Her bridal adornments, it is true, at first caused some little 
dismay, having painted and anointed herself for the occasion 
according to the Chinook toilet ; by dint, however, of copious 
ablutions, she was freed from all adventitious tint and fra- 
grance, and entered into the nuptial state, the cleanest princess 
that had ever been known, of the somewhat unctuous tribe of 
the Chinooks. 

From that time forward Comcomly was a daily visitor at the 
fort, and was admitted into the most intimate councils of his 
son-in-law. He took an interest in everything that was going 
forward, but was particularly frequent in his visits to the 



ASTORIA. 



849 



blacksmith's shop, tasking the labors of the artificer in iron for 
every kind of weapon and implement suited to the savage 
state, insomuch that the necessary business of the factory was 
often postponed to attend to his requisitions. 

The honeymoon had scarce passed away, and M'Dougal was 
seated with his bride in the fortress of Astoria, when, about 
noon of the 20th of August, Gassacop, the son of Comcomly, 
hurried into his presence with great agitation, and announced 
a ship at the mouth of the river. The news produced a vast 
sensation. Was it a ship of peace or war? Was it American 
or British? Was it the Beaver or the Isaac Todd? M'Dougal 
hurried to the water-side, threw himself into a boat, and 
ordered the hands to pull with all speed for the mouth of the 
harbor. Those in the fort remained watching the entrance of 
the river, anxious to know whether they were to prepare for 
greeting a friend or fighting an enemy. At length the ship 
was descried crossing the bar, and bending her course toward 
Astoria. Every gaze was fixed upon her in silent scrutiny, 
until the American flag was recognized. A general shout was 
the first expression of joy, and next a salutation was thundered 
from the cannon of the fort. 

The vessel came to anchor on the opposite side of the river, 
and returned the salute. The boa;, of Mr. M'Dougal went on 
board, and was seen returning late in the afternoon. The As- 
torians watched her with straining eyes, to discover who were 
onboard, but the sun went down, and the evening closed in 
before she was sufficiently near. At length she reached the 
land, and Mr. Hunt stepped on shore. He was hailed as one 
risen from the dead, and his return was a signal for merri 
ment almost equal to that which prevailed at the nuptials of 
M'Dougal. 

We must now explain the cause of this gentleman's long 
absence, which had given rise to such gloomy and dispiriting 
surmises. 



CHAPTER LVH. 

It will be recollected that the destination of the Beaver, when 
she sailed from Astoria on the 4th of August in 1812, was to 
proceed northwardly along the coast to Sheetka, or New Arch- 
angel, there to dispose of that part of her cargo intended for 



350 ASTORIA. 

the supply of the Russian establishment at that place, and then 
to return to Astoria, where it was expected she would arrive 
in October. 

New Archangel is situated in Norfolk Sound, lat. 57° 2' N., 
long. 135° 50' W. It was the headquarters of the different colo- 
nies of the Russian Fur Company, and the common rendez- 
vous of the American vessels trading along the coast. 

The Beaver met with nothing worthy of particular mention 
in her voyage, and arrived at New Archangel on the 19th of 
August. The place at that time was the residence of Count 
Baranhoff, the governor of the different colonies, a rough, 
rugged, hospitable, hard-drinking old Russian; somewhat of a 
soldier, somewhat of a trader; above all, a boon companion 
of the old roystering school, with a strong cross of the bear. 

Mr. Hunt found this hyperborean veteran ensconced in a 
fort which crested the whole of a high rocky promontory. It 
mounted one hundred guns, large and small, and was impreg- 
nable to Indian attack, unaided by artillery. Here the old 
governor lorded it over sixty Russians who formed the corps 
of the trading establishment, besides an indefinite number of 
Indian hunters of the Kodiak tribe, who were continually com- 
ing and going, or lounging and loitering about the fort like so 
many hounds round a sportsman's hunting quarters. Though 
a loose liver among his guests, the governor was a strict disci- 
plinarian among his men, keeping them in perfect subjection, 
and having seven on guard night and day. 

Besides those immediate serfs and dependents just men- 
tioned, the old Russian potentate exerted a considerable sway 
over a numerous and irregular class of maritime traders, who 
looked to him for aid and munitions, and through whom he 
may be said to have, in some degree, extended his power along 
the whole northwest coast. These were American captains of 
vessels engaged in a particular department of trade. One of 
these captains would come, in a manner, empty-handed to New 
Archangel. Here his ship would be furnished with about fifty 
canoes and a hundred Kodiak hunters, and fitted out with pro- 
visions, and everything necessary for hunting the sea-otter on 
the coast of California, where the Russians have another estab- 
lishment. The ship would ply along the Calif ornian coast from 
place to place, dropping parties of otter hunters in their canoes, 
furnishing them only with water, and leaving them to depend 
upon their own dexterity for a maintenance. When a suffi- 
cient cargo was collected she would gather up her canoes and 



ASTORIA. 351 

hunters, and return with them to Archangel, where the cap- 
tain would render in the returns of his voyage, and receive 
one half of the skins for his share. 

Over these coasting captains, as we have hinted, the veteran 
governor exerted some sort of sway, but it was of a peculiar 
and characteristic kind ; it was the tyranny of the table. They 
were obliged to join him in his "prosnics" or carousals, and to 
drink " potations pottla deep." His carousals, too, were not of 
the most quiet kind, nor were his potations as mild as nectar. 
" He is continually," said Mr. Hunt, " giving entertainments 
by way of parade, and if you do not drink raw rum, and boiling 
punch as strong as sulphur, he will insult you as soon as he 
gets drunk, which is very shortly after sitting down to table." 

As to any " temperance captain" who stood fast to bis faith, 
and refused to give up his sobriety, he might go elsewhere for 
a market, for he stood no chance with the governor. Barely, 
however, did any cold-water caitiff of the kind darken the 
door of old Baranhoff ; the coasting captains knew too well his 
humor and their own interests; they joined in his revels, they 
drank, and sang, and whooped, and hiccuped, until they all 
got " half seas over," and then affairs went on swimmingly. 

An awful warning to all " flinchers" occurred shortly before 
Mr. Hunt's arrival. A young naval officer had recently been 
sent out by the emperor to take command of one of the com- 
pany's vessels. The governor, as usual, had him at his " pros- 
nics," and plied him with fiery potations. The young man 
stood on the defensive until the old count's ire was completely 
kindled ; he carried his point, and made the greenhorn tipsy, 
willy nilly. In proportion as they grew fuddled they grew 
noisy, they quarrelled in their cups; the youngster paid old 
Baranhoff in his own coin by rating him soundly ; in reward 
for which, when sober, he was taken the rounds of four pick- 
ets, and received seventy-nine lashes, taled out with Russian 
punctuality of punishment. 

Such was the old grizzled bear with whom Mr. Hunt had to 
do his business. How he managed to cope with his humor; 
whether he pledged himself in raw rum and blazing punch, 
and ' ' clinked the can" with him as they made their bargains, 
does not appear upon record; we must infer, however, from 
his general observations on the absolute sway of this hard- 
drinking potentate, that he had to conform to the customs of 
his court, and that their business transactions presented a 
maudlin mixture of punch and peltry. 



352 ASTOBIA. 

The greatest annoyance to Mr. Hunt, however, was the delay- 
to which he was subjected in disposing of the cargo of the 
ship and getting the requisite returns. With all the gover- 
nor's devotions to the bottle, he never obfuscated his faculties 
sufficiently to lose sight of his interest, and- is represented by 
Mr. Hunt as keen, not to say crafty, at a bargain as the most 
arrant water drinker. A long time was expended negotiating 
with him, and by the time the bargain was concluded, the 
month of October had arrived. To add to the delay he was to 
be paid for his cargo in seal skins. Now it so happened that 
there was none of this kind of peltry at the fort of old Baran- 
hoff . It was necessary, therefore, for Mr. Hunt to proceed to 
a seal-catching establishment, which the Russian company had 
at the island of St. Paul in the sea of Kamschatka. He accord- 
ingly set sail on the 4th of October, after having spent forty- 
five days at New Archangel, boosing and bargaining with its 
roystering commander, and right glad was he to escape from 
the clutches of this " old man of the sea." 

The Beaver arrived at St. Paul's on the 31st of October ; by 
which time, according to arrangement, he ought to have been 
back at Astoria. The island of St. Paul's is in latitude 57° N., 
longitude 170° or 171° W. Its shores in certain places, and at 
certain seasons, are covered with seals, while others are play- 
ing about in the water. Of these, the Russians take only the 
small ones, from seven to ten months old, and carefully select 
the males, giving the females their freedom, that the breed 
may not be diminished. The islanders, however, kill the large 
ones for provisions, and for skins wherewith to cover their 
canoes. They drive them from the shore over the rocks, until 
within a short distance of their habitations, where they kill 
them. By this means they save themselves the trouble of 
carrying the skins, and have the flesh at hand. This is thrown 
in heaps, and when the season for skinning is over, they take 
out the entrails and make one heap of the blubber. This with 
drift-wood serves for fuel, for the island is entirely destitute of 
irees. They make another heap of the flesh, which, with the 
eggs of sea-fowls, preserved in oil, an occasional sea-lion, a few 
ducks in winter, and some wild roots, compose their food. 

Mr. Hunt found seven Russians at the island, and one hun- 
dred hunters, natives of Oonalaska, with their families. They 
lived in cabins that looked like canoes; being, for the most 
part, formed of the jaw-bone of a whale, put up as rafters, 
across which were laid pieces of drift-wood covered over with 



ASTORIA. 353 

long grass, the skins of large sea animals, and earth, so as to 
be quite comfortable, in despite of the rigors of the climate ; 
though we are told they had as ancient and fish-like an odor, 
"as had the quarters of Jonah, when he lodged within the 
whale." 

In one of these odoriferous mansions Mr. Hunt occasionally 
took up his abode, that he might be at hand to hasten the 
loading of the ship. The operation, however, was somewhat 
slow, for it was necessary to overhaul and inspect every pack 
to prevent imposition, and the peltries had then to be conveyed 
in large boats, made of skins, to the ship, which was some 
little distance from the shore, standing off and on. 

One night, while Mr. Hunt was on shore, with some others 
of the crew, there arose a terrible gale. When the day broke 
the ship was not to be seen. He watched for her with anxious 
eyes until night, but in vain. Day after day of boisterous 
storms and howling wintry weather were passed in watchful- 
ness and solicitude. Nothing was to be seen but a dark and 
angry sea, and a scowling northern sky ; and at night he re- 
tired within the jaws of the whale, and nestled disconsolately 
among seal skins. 

At length, on the 13th of November, the Beaver made her 
appearance, much the worse for the stormy conflicts she had 
sustained in those hyperborean seas. She had been obliged to 
carry a press of sail in heavy gales, to be able to hold her 
ground, and had consequently sustained great damage in her 
canvas and rigging. Mr. Hunt lost no time in hurrying the 
residue of the cargo on board of her ; then, bidding adieu to 
his seal-fishing friends and his whalebone habitation, he put 
forth once more to sea. 

He was now for making the best of his way to Astoria, and 
fortunate would it have been for the interests of that place, 
and the interests of Mr. Astor, had he done so ; but, unluckily, 
a perplexing question rose in his mind. The sails and rigging 
of the Beaver had been much rent and shattered in the late 
storm; would she be able to stand the hard gales to be expected 
in making Columbia River at this season? Was it prudent, 
also, at this boisterous time of the year, to risk the valuable 
cargo which she now had on board, by crossing and recrossing 
the dangerous bar of that river? These doubts were probably 
suggested or enforced by Captain Sowle, who, it has already 
been seen, was an over-cautious, or rather a timid seaman, 
and they may have had some weight with Mr. Hunt; but 



354 ASTORIA. 

there were other considerations which more strongly swayed 
his mind. The lateness of the season, and the unforeseen 
delays the ship had encountered at New Archangel, and by 
being obliged to proceed to St. Paul's, had put her so much 
back in her calculated time, that there was a risk of her arriv- 
ing so late at Canton as to come to a bad market, both for the 
sale of her peltries and the purchase of a return cargo. He 
considered it to the interest of the company, therefore, that he 
should proceed at once to the Sandwich Islands ; there wait 
the arrival of the annual vessel from New York, take passage 
in her to Astoria, and suffer the Beaver to continue on to 
Canton. 

On the other hand, he was urged to the other course by his 
engagements; by the plan of the voyage marked out for the 
Beaver, by Mr. Astor; by his inclination and the possibility 
that the establishment might need his presence, and by the 
recollection that there must already be a large amount of 
peltries collected at Astoria, and waiting for the return of the 
Beaver to convey them to the market. 

These conflicting questions perplexed and agitated his mind, 
and gave rise to much anxious reflection, for he was a con- 
scientious man, that seems ever to have aimed at a faithful 
discharge of his duties, and to have had the interests of his 
employers earnestly at heart. His decision in the present 
instance was injudicious, and proved unfortunate. It was, 
to bear away for the Sandwich Islands. He persuaded himself 
that it was a matter of necessity, and that the distressed con- 
dition of the ship left him no other alternative ; but we rather 
suspect he was so persuaded by the representations of the 
timid captain. They accordingly stood for the Sandwich 
Islands, arrived at Woahoo, where the ship underwent the 
necessary repairs, and again put to sea on the 1st of January, 
1813, leaving Mr. Hunt on the island. 

We will follow the Beaver to Canton, as her fortunes, in 
some measure, exemplified the commanders of ships acting 
contrary to orders, and as they form a part of the tissue of 
cross-purposes that marred the great commercial enterprise 
we have undertaken to record. 

The Beaver arrived safe at Canton, where Captain Sowle 
found the letter of Mr. Astor, giving him information of the 
war, and directing him to convey the intelligence to Astoria. 
He wrote a reply, dictated either by timidity or obstinacy, in 
which he declined complying with the orders of Mr. Astor, but 



ASTORIA. 355 

said he would wait for the return of peace, and then come 
home. The other proceedings of Captain Sowle were equally 
wrong-headed and unlucky. He was offered one hundred and 
fifty thousand dollars for the fur he had taken on board at St. 
Paul's. The goods for which it had been procured cost but 
twenty-five thousand dollars in New York. Had he accepted 
this offer, and reinvested the amount in nankeens, which at 
that time, in consequence of the interruption to commerce by 
the war, were at two thirds of their usual price, the whois 
would have brought three hundred thousand dollars in New 
York. It is true, the war would have rendered it unsafe to 
attempt the homeward voyage, but he might have put tho 
goods in store at Canton, until after the peace, and have sailed 
without risk of capture to Astoria ; bringing to the partners at 
that place tidings of the great profits realized on the outward 
cargo, and the still greater to be expected from the returns. 
The news of such a brilliant commencement to their under^ 
taking would have counterbalanced the gloomy tidings of the 
war ; it would have infused new spirit into them all, and given 
them courage and constancy to persevere in the enterprise. 
Captain Sowle, however, refused the offer of one hundred and 
fifty thousand dollars, and stood wavering and chaffering for 
higher terms. The furs began to fall in value; this only in- 
creased his irresolution ; they sunk so much that he feared to 
sell at all ; he borrowed money on Mr. Astor's account at an 
interest of eighteen per cent, and laid up his ship to await the 
return of peace. 

In the meanwhile Mr. Hunt soon saw reason to repent the 
resolution he had adopted in altering the destination of the 
ship. His delay at the Sandwich Islands was prolonged far be- 
yond all expectation. He looked in vain for the annual ship in 
the spring. Month after month passed by, and still she did not 
make her appearance. He, too, proved the danger of depart- 
ing from orders. Had he returned from St. Paul's to Astoria, 
all the anxiety and despondency about his fate, and about the 
whole course of the undertaking, would have been obviated. 
The Beaver would have received the furs collected at the fac- 
tory, and taken them to Canton, and great gains, instead of 
great losses, would have been the result. The greatest blunder, 
however, was that committed by Captain Sowle. 

At length, on the 20th of June, the ship Albatross, Captain 
Smith, arrived from China, and brought the first tidings of the 
war to the Sandwich Islands. Mr. Hunt was no longer in doubt 



356 ASTORIA. 

and perplexity as to the reason of the non-appearance of the 
annual ship. His first thoughts were for the welfare of Astoria, 
and concluding that the inhabitants would probably be in want 
of provisions, he chartered the Albatross for two thousand dol- 
lars, to land him, with some supplies, at the mouth of the Co- 
lumbia, where he arrived, as.we have seen, on the 20th of Aug- 
ust, after a year's seafaring that might have furnished a chap- 
ter in the wanderings of Sinbad. 



CHAPTER LVIIL 



Mr. Hunt was overwhelmed with surprise when he learnt 
the resolution taken by the partners to abandon Astoria. He 
soon found, however, that matters had gone too far, and the 
minds of his colleagues had become too firmly bent upon the 
measure, to render any opposition of avail. He was beset, too, 
with the same disparaging accounts of the interior trade, and 
of the whole concerns and prospects of the company that had 
been rendered to Mr. Astor. His own experience had been full 
of perplexities and discouragements. He had a conscientious 
anxiety for the interests of Mr. Astor, and, not comprehending 
the extended views of that gentleman, and his habit of operat- 
ing with great amounts, he had from the first been daunted by 
the enormous expenses required, and had become disheartened 
by the subsequentJosses sustained, which appeared to him to 
be ruinous in their magnitude. By degrees, therefore, he was 
brought to acquiesce in the step taken by his colleagues, as 
perhaps advisable in the exigencies of the case ; his only care 
was to wind up the business with as little further loss as possi- 
ble to Mr. Astor. 

A large stock of valuable furs was collected at the factory, 
which it was necessary to get to a market. There were twenty 
five Sandwich Islanders, also, in the employ of the company, 
whom they were bound by express agreement to restore to 
their native country. For these purposes a ship was necessary. 

The Albatross was bound to the Marquesas, and thence to the 
Sandwich Islands. It was resolved that Mr. Hunt should sail 
in her in quest of a vessel, and should return, if possible, by 
the 1st of January, bringing with him a supply of provisions. 
Should anything occur, however,, to prevent his return, an ar« 



ASTOBIA. 357 

rangement was to be proposed to Mr. M'Tavish, to transfer 
such of the men as were so disposed, from the service of the 
American Fur Company into that of the Northwest, the latter 
becoming responsible for the wages due them, on receiving an 
equivalent in goods, from the storehouse of the factory. As a 
means of facilitating the dispatch of business, Mr. M'Dougal 
proposed, that in case Mr. Hunt should not return, the whole 
arrangement with Mr. M'Tavish should be left solely to him. 
This was assented to, the contingency being considered possible, 
but not probable. 

It is proper to note, that on the first announcement by Mr. 
M'Dougal of his intention to break up the establishment, three 
of the clerks, British subjects, had, with his consent, passed 
into the service of the Northwest Company, and departed with 
Mr. M'Tavish for his post in the interior. 

Having arranged all these matters during a sojourn of six 
days at Astoria, Mr. Hunt set sail in the Albatross on the 26th 
of August, and arrived without accident at the Marquesas. He 
had not been there long when Porter arrived in the frigate 
Essex, bringing in a number of stout London whalers as prizes, 
having made a sweeping cruise in the Pacific. From Commo- 
dore Porter he received the alarming intelligence that the Brit- 
ish frigate Phoebe, with a storeship, mounted with battering 
pieces, calculated to attack forts, had arrived at Rio Janeiro, 
where she had been joined by the sloops of war Cherub and 
Racoon, and that they had all sailed in company on the 6th of 
July for the Pacific, bound, as it was supposed, to Columbia 
River. 

Here, then, was the death-warrant of unfortunate Astoria! 
The anxious mind of Mr. Hunt was in greater perplexity than 
ever. He had been eager to extricate the property of Mr. Astor 
from a failing concern with as little loss as possible ; there was 
now danger that the whole would be swallowed up. How was 
it to be snatched from the gulf ? It was impossible to charter 
a ship for the purpose, now that a British squadron was on its 
way to the river. He applied to purchase one of the whale- 
ships brought in by Commodore Porter. The commodore de- 
manded twenty-five thousand dollars for her. The price ap- 
peared exorbitant, and no bargain could be made. Mr. Hunt 
then urged the commodore to fit out one of his prizes, and send 
her to Astoria to bring off the property and part of the people, 
but he declined, u from want of authority." He assured Mr. 
Hunt, however, that he would endeavor to fall in with the 



358 ASTORIA. 

enemy, or, should he hear of their having certainly gone to the 
Columbia, he would either follow or anticipate them, should 
his circumstances warrant such a step. 

In this tantalizing state of suspense, Mr. Hunt was detained 
at the Marquesas until November 23d, when he proceeded in 
the Albatross to the Sandwich Islands. He still cherished a 
faint hope that, notwithstanding the war, and all other dis- 
couraging circumstances, the annual ship might have been sent 
by Mr. Astor, and might have touched at the islands, and pro- 
ceeded to the Columbia. He knew the pride and interest taken 
by that gentleman in his great enterprise, and that he would 
not be deterred by dangers and difficulties from prosecuting it ; 
much less would he leave the infant establishment without 
succor and support in the time of trouble. In this, we have 
seen, he did but justice to Mr. Astor ; and we must now turn 
to notice the cause of the non-arrival of the vessel which he 
had dispatched with reinforcements and supplies. Her voyage 
forms another chapter of accidents in this eventful story. 

The Lark sailed from New York on the 6th of March, 1813, 
and proceeded prosperously on her voyage, until within a few 
degrees of the Sandwich Islands. Here a gale sprang up that 
soon blew with tremendous violence. The Lark was a staunch 
and noble ship, and for a time buffeted bravely with the storm. 
Unluckily, however, she " broached to," and was struck by a 
heavy sea, that hove her on her beam-ends. The helm, too, 
was knocked to leeward, all command of the vessel was lost, 
and another mountain wave completely overset her. Orders 
were given to cut away the masts. In the hurry and confusion 
the boats were also unfortunately cut adrift. The wreck then 
righted, but was a mere hulk, full of water, with a heavy sea 
washing over it, and all the hatches off. On mustering the 
crew, one man was missing, who w r as discovered below in the 
forecastle, drowned. 

In cutting away the masts it had been utterly impossible to 
observe the necessary precaution of commencing with the lee 
rigging, that being, from the position of the ship, completely 
under water. The masts and spars, therefore, being linked to 
the wreck by the shrouds and rigging, remained alongside for 
four days. During all this time the ship lay /oiling in the 
trough of the sea, the heavy surges breaking over her, and the 
spars heaving and banging to and fro, bruising the half- 
drowned sailors that clung to the bowsprits and the stumps of 
the masts. The sufferings of these poor fellows were intolera- 



ASTORIA. 359 

ble. They stood to their waists in water, in imminent peril of 
being washed off by every surge. In this position they dared 
not sleep, lest they should let go their hold and be swept away. 
The only dry place on the wreck was the bowsprit. Here they 
took turns to be tied on, for half an hour at a time, and in this 
way gained short snatches of sleep. 

On the 14th the first mate died at his post, and was swept off 
by the surges. On the 17th two seamen, faint and exhausted, 
were washed overboard. The next wave threw their bodies 
back upon the deck, where they remained, swashing backward 
and forward, ghastly objects to the almost perishing survivors. 
Mr. Ogden, the supercargo, who was at the bowsprit, called to 
the men nearest to the bodies to fasten them to the wreck, as 
a last horrible resource in case of being driven to extremity by 
famine ! 

On the 17th the gale gradually subsided, and the sea became 
calm. The sailors now crawled feebly about the wreck, and 
began to relieve it from the main incumbrances. The spars 
were cleared away, the anchors and guns heaved overboard ■ 
the spritsail yard was rigged for a jurymast, and a mizzen- 
topsail set upon it. A sort of stage was made of a few broken 
spars, on which the crew were raised above the surface of the 
water, so as to be enabled to keep themselves dry and to sleep 
comfortably. Still their sufferings from hunger and thirst 
were great ; but there was a Sandwich Islander on board, an 
expert swimmer, who found his way into the cabin and occa- 
sionally brought up a few bottles of wine and porter, and at 
length got into the run, and secured a quarter cask of wine. 
A little raw pork was likewise procured, and dealt out with a 
sparing hand. The horrors of their situation were increased 
by the sight of numerous sharks prowling about the wreck, as 
if waiting for their prey. On the 24th the cook, a black man, 
died, and was cast into the sea, when he was instantly seized 
on by these ravenous monsters. 

They had been several days making slow headway under 
their scanty sail, when, on the 25th, they came in sight of land. 
It was about fifteen leagues distant, and they remained two or 
three days drifting along in sight of it. On the 28th they de- 
scried to their great transport, a canoe approaching, managed 
by natives. They came alongside, and brought a most welcome 
supply of potatoes. They informed them that the land they 
had made was one of the Sandwich Islands. The second mate 
and one of the seamen went on shore in the canoe for water 



360 ASTORIA. 

and provisions, and to procure aid from the islanders, in towing 
the wreck into a harbor. 

Neither of the men returned, nor was any assistance sent 
from shore. The next day, ten or twelve canoes came along- 
side, but roamed round the wreck like so many sharks, and 
would render no aid in towing her to land. 

The sea continued to break over the vessel with such violence 
that it was impossible to stand at the helm without the assist- 
ance of lashings. The crew were now so worn down by fam- 
ine and thirst that the captain saw it would be impossible for 
them to withstand the breaking of the sea, when the ship 
should ground; he deemed the only chance for their lives, 
therefore, was to get to land in the canoes, and stand ready to 
receive and protect the wreck when she should drift to shore. 
Accordingly, they all got safe to land, but had scarcely touched 
the beach when they were surrounded by the natives, who 
stripped them almost naked. The name of this inhospitable 
island was Tahoorowa. 

In the course of the night the wreck came drifting to the 
strand, with the surf thundering around her, and shortly after- 
ward bilged. On the following morning numerous casks of 
provisions floated on shore. The natives staved them for the 
sake of the iron hoops, but would not allow the crew to help 
themselves to the contents, or to go on board of the wreck. 

As the crew were in want of everything, and as it might be 
a long time before any opportunity occurred for them to get 
away from these islands, Mr. Ogden, as soon as he could get 
a chance, made his way to the island of Owyhee, and en- 
deavored to make some arrangement with the king for the re- 
lief of his companions in misfortune. 

The illustrious Tamaahmaah, as we have shown on a former 
occasion, was a shrewd bargainer, and in the present instance 
proved himself an experienced wrecker. His negotiations 
with M'Dougal and the other " Eris of the great American Fur 
Company" had but little effect on present circumstances, and 
he proceeded to avail himself of their misfortunes. He agreed 
to furnish the crew with provisions during their stay in his 
territories, and to return to them all their clothing that could 
be found, but he stipulated that the wreck should be abandoned 
to him as a waif cast by fortune on his shores. With these 
conditions Mr. Ogden was fain to comply. Upon this the 
great Tamaahmaah deputed his favorite, John Young, the tar- 
pawlin governor of Owyhee, to proceed with a number of the 



ASTORIA. 361 

royal guards, and take possession of the wreck on behalf of the 
crown. This was done accordingly, and the property and 
crew were removed to Owyhee. The royal bounty appears to 
have been but scanty in its dispensations. The crew fared but 
meagrely; though on reading the journal of the voyage it is 
singular to find them, after all the hardships they had suffered, 
so sensitive about petty inconveniences as to exclaim against 
the king as a "savage monster," for refusing them a "pot to 
cook in," and denying Mr. Ogden the use of a knife and fork 
which had been saved from the wreck. 

Such was the unfortunate catastrophe of the Lark ; had she 
reached her destination in safety, affairs at Astoria might have 
taken a different course. A strange fatality seems to have atr 
tended all the expeditions by sea, nor were those by land much 
less disastrous. 

Captain Northrop was still at the Sandwich Islands on De- 
cember 20th, when Mr. Hunt arrived. The latter immediately 
purchased for ten thousand "dollars a brig called the Pedler, 
and put Captain Northrop in command of her. They set sail 
for Astoria on the 22d of January, intending to remove the 
property from thence as speedily as possible to the Eussian 
settlements on the northwest coast, to prevent it from falling 
into the hands of the British. Such were the orders of Mr. 
Astor, sent out by the Lark. 

We will now leave Mr. Hunt on his voyage, and return to 
see what has taken place at Astoria during his absence. 



CHAPTEE LIX. 



On the 2d of October, about five weeks after Mr. Hunt had 
sailed in the Albatross from Astoria, Mr. M'Kenzie set off, with 
two canoes and twelve men, for the posts of Messrs. Stuart and 
Clarke, to apprise them of the new arrangements determined 
upon in the recent conference of the partners at the factory. 

He had not ascended the river a hundred miles, when he 
met a squadron of ten canoes, sweeping merrily down under 
British colors, the Canadian oarsmen, as usual, in full song. 

It was an armament fitted out by MTavish, who had with 
him Mr. J. Stuart, another partner of the Northwest Company, 
together with some clerks and sixty-eight men— seventy-five 



362 ASTORIA. 

souls in all. They had heard of the frigate Phoebe and the 
Isaac Todd being on the high seas, and were on their way 
down to await their arrival. In one of the canoes Mr. Clarke 
came passenger, the alarming intelligence having brought him 
down from his post on the Spokan. Mr. M'Kenzie immedi- 
ately determined to return with Mm to Astoria, and, veering 
about, the two parties encamped together for the night. The 
leaders, of course, observed a due decorum, but some of the 
subalterns could not restrain their chuckling exultation, boast- 
ing that they would soon plant the British standard on the 
walls of Astoria, and drive the Americans out of the country. 

In the course of the evening Mr. M'Kenzie had a secret con* 
f erence with Mr. Clarke, in which they agreed to set off pri- 
vately, before daylight, and get down in time to apprise 
M'Dougal of the approach of these Northwesters. The latter, 
however, were completely on the alert; just as M'Kenzie's 
canoes were about to push off, they were joined by a couple 
from the Northwest squadron, in which was M'Tavish with 
two clerks and eleven men. With these he intended to push 
forward and make arrangements, leaving the rest of the con- 
voy, in which was a large quantity of furs, to await his orders. 

The two parties arrived at Astoria on the 7th of October. 
The Northwesters encamped under the guns of the fort, and 
displayed the British colors. The young men in the fort, na- 
tives of the United States, were on the point of hoisting the 
American flag, but were forbidden by Mr. M'Dougal. They 
were astonished at such a prohibition, and were exceedingly 
galled by the tone and manner assumed by the clerks and re- 
tainers of the Northwest Company, who ruffled about in that 
swelling and braggart style which grows up among these 
heroes of the wilderness ; they, in fact, considered themselves 
lords of the ascendant, and regarded the hampered and har- 
assed Astorians as a conquered people. 

On tho following day M'Dougal convened the clerks, and 
read to them an extract of a letter from, his uncle, Mr. Angus 
Shaw, one of the principal partners of the Northwest Company, 
announcing the coming of the Phoebe and Isaac Todd, "to take 
and destroy everything American on the northwest coast." 

This intelligence was received without dismay by such of the 
clerks as were natives of the United States. They had felt in- 
dignant at seeing their national flag struck by a Canadian com- 
mander, and the British flag flowed, as it were, in their faces. 
They had been stung to the quick, also, by the vaunting airs 



ASTORIA. 363 

assumed by the Northwesters. In this mood of mind they 
would willingly have nailed their colors to the staff, and defied 
the frigate. She could not come within many miles of the 
fort, they observed, and any boats she might send could be 
destroyed by their cannon. 

There were cooler and more calculating spirits, however, 
who had the control of affairs, and felt nothing of the patri- 
otic pride and indignation of these youths. The extract of the 
letter had, apparently, been read by M'Dougal merely to pre- 
pare the way for a preconcerted stroke of management. On 
the same day Mr. M'Tavish proposed to purchase the whole 
stock of goods and furs belonging to the company, both at As- 
toria and in the interior, at cost and charges. Mr. M'Dougal 
undertook to comply, assuming the whole management 'of the 
negotiation in virtue of the power vested in him, in case of the 
non-arrival of Mr. Hunt. That power, however, was limited 
and specific, and did not extend to an operation of this nature 
and extent ; no objection, however, was made to his assump- 
tion, and he and M'Tavish soon made a preliminary arrange- 
ment, perfectly satisfactory to the latter. 

Mr. Stuart and the reserve party of Northwesters arrived, 
shortly afterward, and encamped with M'Tavish. The former 
exclaimed loudly against the terms of the arrangement, and 
insisted upon a reduction of the prices. New negotiations had 
now to be entered into. The demands of the Northwesters 
were made in a peremptory tone, and they seemed disposed to 
dictate like conquerors. The Americans looked on with indig- 
nation and impatience. They considered M'Dougal as acting, 
if not a perfidious, certainly a craven part. He was continu- 
ally repairing to the camp to negotiate, instead of keeping 
within his walls and receiving overtures in his fortress. His 
case, they observed, was not so desperate as to excuse such 
crouching.- He might, in fact, hold out for his own terms. 
The Northwest party had lost their ammunition ; they had no 
goods to trade with the natives for provisions; and they were 
so destitute that M'Dougal had absolutely to feed them, while 
he negotiated with them. He, on the contrary, was well 
lodged and victualled ; had sixty men with arms, ammunition, 
boats, and everything requisite either for defence or retreat. 
The party, beneath the guns of his fort, were at his mercy: 
should an enemy appear in the offing, he could pack up the 
most valuable part of the property, and retire to some place of 
concealment,, or make off for the interior. 



864 ASTORIA, 

These considerations, however, had no weight with Mr. 
M'Dougal, or were overruled by other motives. The terms of 
sale were lowered by him to the standard fixed by Mr. Stuart, 
and an agreement executed, on the 16th of October, by which 
the furs and merchandise of all kinds in the country, belong- 
ing to Mr. Astor, passed into the possession of the Northwest 
Company at about a third of their real value.* A safe passage 
through the Northwest posts was guaranteed to such as did not 
choose to enter into the service of that company, and the 
amount of wages due to them was to be deducted from the 
price paid for Astoria. 

The conduct and motives of Mr. M'Dougal, throughout the 
whole of this proceeding, have been strongly questioned by the 
other partners. He has been accused of availing himself of a 
wrong construction of powers vested in him at his own request, 
and of sacrificing the interests of Mr. Astor to the Northwest 
Company, under the promise or hope of advantage to himself. 

He always insisted, however, that he made the best bargain 
for Mr. Astor that circumstances would permit; the frigate 
being hourly expected, in which case the whole property of 
that gentleman would be liable to capture. That the return 
of Mr. Hunt was problematical ; the frigate intending to cruise 
along the coast for two years, and clear it of all American 
vessels. He moreover averred, and M'Tavish corroborated his 
averment by certificate, that he proposed an arrangement to 
that gentleman, by which the furs were to be sent to Canton, 



* Not quite $40,000 were allowed for furs worth upward of $100,000. Beaver was 
valued at two dollars per skin, though worth five dollars. Land otter at fifty cents, 
though worth five dollars. Sea otter at twelve dollars, worth from forty-five to 
6ixty dollars ; and for several kinds of furs nothing was allowed. Moreover, the 
^oods and merchandise for the Indian trade ought to have brought three times the 
amount for which they were sold. 
The following estimate has been made of the articles on hand, and the prices: 
17,705 lbs. beaver parchment, valued at $2 00, worth $5 00 

465 old coat beaver " 166, " 3 50 

9071andotter " 50, " 5 00 

68seaotter " 12 00, " $45-60 00 

30 " " 5 00, " 25 00 

Nothing was allowed for 
179 mink skins, worth each 40 



22 raccoon . . . 

28 lynx 

18 fox... 

106 " 

71 black bear., 
16 grizzly bear. 



. 40 

.$2 00 
. 100 
. 150 
. 400 
10 00 



ASTORIA. 365 

and sold there at Mr. Astor's risk, and for his account ; but the 
proposition was not acceded to. 

Notwithstanding all his representations, several of the per- 
sons present at the transaction, and acquainted with the whole 
course of the affair, and among the number Mr. M'Kenzie him- 
self, his occasional coadjutor, remained firm in the belief that 
he acted a hollow part. Neither did he succeed in exculpating 
himself to Mr. Astor; that gentleman declaring, in a letter 
written some time afterward, to Mr. Hunt, that he considered 
the property virtually given away. "Had our place and our 
property," he adds, "been fairly captured, I should have pre- 
ferred it. I should not feel as if I were disgraced." 

All these may be unmerited suspicions ; but it certainly is 
a circumstance strongly corroborative of them, that Mr. 
M'Dougal, shortly after concluding this agreement, became 
a member of the Northwest Company, and received a share 
productive of a handsome income. 



CHAPTER LX. 



On the morning of the 30th of November, a sail was descried 
doubling Cape Disappointment. It came to anchor in Baker's 
Bay, and proved to be a ship of war. Of what nation? was 
now the anxious inquiry. If English, why did it come alone? 
where was the merchant vessel that was to have accompanied 
it? If American, what was to become of the newly acquired 
possession of the Northwest Company? 

In this dilemma, M'Tavish, in all haste, loaded two barges 
with all the packages of furs bearing the mark of the North- 
west Company, and made off for Tongue Point, three miles up 
the river. There he was to await a preconcerted signal from 
M'Dougal on ascertaining the character of the ship. If it 
be American, M'Tavish would have a fair start, and could bear 
off his rich cargo to the interior. It is singular that this prompt 
mode of conveying valuable, but easily transportable effects 
beyond the reach of a hostile ship should not have suggested 
itself while the property belonged to Mr. Astor. 

In the meantime M'Dougal, who still remained nominal 
chief at the fort, launched a canoe, manned by men recently in 
the employ of the American Fur Company, and steered for the 
ship. On the way he instructed his men to pass themselves 



366 ASTORIA. 

for Americans or Englishmen, according to the exigencies of 
the case. 

The vessel proved to be the British sloop-of-war Racoon, of 
twenty-six guns and one hundred and twenty men, commanded 
by Captain Black. According to the account of that officer, 
the frigate Phoebe, and the two sloops-of-war Cherub and 
Racoon, had sailed in convoy of the Isaac Todd, from Rio 
Janeiro. On board of the Phoebe Mr. John M'Donald, a part- 
ner of the Northwest Company, embarked as passenger, to 
profit by the anticipated catastrophe at Astoria. The convoy 
was separated by stress of weather off Cape Horn. The three 
ships of war came together again at the island of Juan Fernan- 
dez, their appointed rendezvous, but waited in vain for the 
Isaac Todd. 

In the meantime intelligence was received of the mischief 
that Commodore Porter was doing among the British whale- 
ships. Commodore Hillyer immediately set sail in quest of 
him, with the Phoebe and the Cherub, transferring Mr. M'Don- 
ald to the Racoon, and ordering that vessel to proceed to the 
Columbia. 

The officers of the Racoon were in high spirits. The agents 
of the Northwest Company, in instigating the expedition, had 
talked of immense booty to be made by the fortunate captors 
of Astoria. Mr. M'Donald had kept up the excitement during 
the voyage, so that not a midshipman but revelled in dreams 
of ample prize-money, nor a lieutenant that would have sold 
his chance for a thousand pounds. Their disappointment, 
therefore, may easily be conceived, when they learned that 
their warlike attack upon Astoria had been forestalled by a 
snug commercial arrangement; that their anticipated booty 
had become British property in the regular course of traffic, 
and that all this had been effected by the very company which 
had been instrumental in getting them sent on what they now 
stigmatized a,s a fool's errand. They felt as if they had been 
duped and made tools of, by a set of shrewd men of traffic, who 
had employed them to crack the nut while they carried off the 
kernel. In a word, M'Dougal found himself so ungraciously re- 
ceived by his countrymen onboard of the ship, that he was glad 
to cut short his visit and return to shore. He was busy at the 
fort making preparations for the reception of the captain of the 
Racoon, when his one-eyed Indian father-in-law made his ap- 
pearance, with a train of Chinook warriors, all painted and 
equipped in warlike style. 



ASTOEIA. 367 

Old Comcomly had beheld, with dismay, the arrival of a 
"big war canoe" displaying the British flag. The shrewd old 
savage had become something of a politician in the course of 
his daily visits at the fort. He knew of the war existing be- 
tween the nations, but knew nothing of the arrangement be- 
tween M'Dougal and M'Tavish. He trembled, therefore, for 
the power of his white son-in-law and the new-fledged grandeur 
of his daughter, and assembled his warriors in all haste. 
"King George," said he, "has sent his great canoe to destroy 
the fort, and make slaves of all the inhabitants. Shall we suf- 
fer it? The Americans are the first white men that have fixed 
themselves in the land. They have treated us like brothers. 
Their great chief has taken my daughter to be his squaw: we 
are, therefore, as one people." 

His warriors all determined to stand by the Americans to the 
last, and to this effect they came painted and armed for battle. 
Comcomly made a spirited war-speech to his son-in-law, He 
offered to kill every one of King George's men that should at- 
tempt to land. It was an easy matter. The ship could not 
approach within six miles of the fort ; the crew could only land 
in boats. The woods reached to the water's edge ; in these, he 
and his warriors would conceal themselves, and shoot down 
the enemy as fast as they put foot on shore. 

M'Dougal was, doubtless, properly sensible of this parental 
devotion on the part of his savage father-in-law, and perhaps a 
little rebuked by the game spirit so opposite to his own. He 
assured Comcomly, however, that his solicitude for the safety 
of himself and the princess was superfluous ; as, though the 
ship belonged to King George, her crew would not injure the 
Americans, or their Indian allies. He advised him and his 
warriors, therefore, to lay aside their weapons and warshirts, 
wash off the paint from their faces and bodies, and appear like 
clean and civil savages to receive the strangers courteously. 

Comcomly was sorely puzzled at this advice, which accorded 
so little with his Indian notions of receiving a hostile nation ; 
and it was only after repeated and positive assurances of the 
amicable intentions of the strangers that he was induced to 
lower his fighting tone. He said something to his warriors 
explanatory of this singular posture of affairs, and in vindica- 
tion, perhaps, of the pacific temper of his son-in-law. They all 
gave a shrug and an Indian grunt of acquiescence, and went 
off sulkily to their village, to lay aside their weapons for the 
present. 



368 ASTOBIA. 

The proper arrangements being made for the reception of 
Captain Black, that officer caused his ship's boats to be manned, 
and landed with befitting state at Astoria. From the talk that 
had been made by the Northwest Company of the strength of 
the place, and the armament they had required to assist in its 
reduction, he expected to find a fortress of some importance. 
When he beheld nothing but stockades and bastions, calculated 
for defence against naked savages, he felt an emotion of indig- 
nant surprise, mingled with something of the ludicrous. "Is 
this the fort," cried he, "about which I have heard so much 
talking? D— n me, but I'd batter it down in two hours with a 
four-pounder !" 

When he learned, however, the amount of rich furs tnat had 
been passed into the hands of the Northwesters, he was out- 
rageous, and insisted that an inventory should be taken of all 
the property purchased of the Americans, "with a view to 
ulterior measures in England, for the recovery of the value 
from the Northwest Company." 

As he grew cool, however, he gave over all idea of preferring 
such a claim, and reconciled himself, as well as he could, to 
the idea of having been forestalled by his bargaining coadjutors. 

On the 12th of December the fate of Astoria was consum- 
mated by a regular ceremonial. Captain Black, attended by 
his officers, entered the fort, caused the British standard to be 
erected, broke a bottle of wine, and declared, in a loud voice, 
that he took possession of the establishment and of the coun- 
try, in the name of his Britannic Majesty, changing the name 
of Astoria to that of Fort George. 

The Indian warriors who had offered their services to repel 
the strangers were present on this occasion. It was explained 
to them as being a friendly arrangement and transfer, but they 
shook their heads grimly, and considered it an act of subjuga- 
tion of their ancient allies. They regretted that they had com- 
plied with M'Dougal's wishes, in laying aside their arms, and 
remarked that, however the Americans might conceal the fact, 
they were undoubtedly all slaves ; nor could they be persuaded 
of the contrary until they beheld the Racoon depart without 
taking away any prisoners. 

As to Comcomly, he no longer prided himself upon his white 
son-in-law, but, whenever he was asked about him, shook his 
head, and replied, that his daughter had made a mistake, and, 
instead of getting a great warrior for a husband, had married 
herself to a squaw. 



ASTOBIA. 369 



CHAPTER LXI. 

Having given the catastrophe at the fort of Astoria, it re- 
mains now but to gather up a few loose ends of this widely 
excursive narrative and conclude. On the 28th of February 
the brig Pedler anchored in Columbia River. It will be recol- 
lected that Mr. Hunt had purchased this vessel at the Sand- 
wich Islands, to take off the furs collected at the factory, and 
to restore the Sandwich Islanders to their homes. When that 
gentleman learned, however, the precipitate and summary 
manner in which the property had been bargained away by 
M'Dougal, he expressed his indignation in the strongest terms, 
and determined to make an effort to get back the furs. As 
soon as his wishes were known in this respect, M'Dougal came 
to sound him on behalf of the Northwest Company, intimating 
that he had no doubt the peltries might be repurchased at an 
advance of fifty per cent. This overture was not calculated to 
soothe the angry feelings of Mr. Hunt, and his indignation 
was complete when he discovered that M'Dougal had become a 
partner of the Northwest Company, and had actually been so 
since the 23d of December. He had kept his partnership a 
secret, however; had retained the papers of the Pacific Fur 
Company in his possession, and had continued to act as Mr. 
Astor's agent, though two of the parties of the other company, 
Mr. M'Kenzie and Mr. Clarke, were present. He had, more- 
over, divulged to his new associates all that he knew as to Mr. 
Astor's plans and affairs, and had made copies of his business 
letters for their perusal. 

Mr. Hunt now considered the whole conduct of M'Dougal 
hollow and collusive. His only thought was, therefore, to get 
all the papers of the concern out of his hands, and bring the 
business to a close; for the interests of Mr. Astor were yet 
completely at stake ; the drafts of the Northwest Company in 
his favor, for the purchase money, not having yet been ob- 
tained. With some difficulty he succeeded in getting posses- 
sion of the papers. The bills or drafts were delivered without 
hesitation. The latter he remitted to Mr. Astor by some of his 
associates, who were about to cross the continent to New York. 
This done, he embarked on board the Pedler, on April 3d, 



370 ASTORIA. 

accompanied by two of the clerks, Mr. Seton and Mr. Halsey, 
and bade a final adieu to Astoria. 

The next day, April 4th, Messrs. Clarke, M'Kenzie, David 
Stuart, and such of the Astorians as had not entered into the 
service of the Northwest Company, set out to cross the Eocky 
Mountains. It is not our intention to take the reader another 
journey across those rugged barriers ; but we will step forward 
with the travellers to a distance on their way, merely to relate 
their interview with a character already noted in this work. 

As the party were proceeding up the Columbia, near the 
mouth of the Wallah-Wallah Eiver, several Indian canoes put 
off from the shore to overtake them, and a voice called upon 
them in French and requested them to stop. They accordingly 
put to shore, and were joined by those in the canoes. To their 
surprise, they recognized in the person who had hailed them 
the Indian wife of Pierre Dorion, accompanied by her two 
children. She had a story to tell, involving the fate of several 
of our unfortunate adventurers. 

Mr. John Eeed, the Hibernian, it will be remembered, had 
been detached during the summer to the Snake Eiver. His 
party consisted of four Canadians, Gila3 Le Clerc, Francois 
Landry, Jean Baptiste Turcot, and Andre La Chapelle, to- 
gether with two hunters, Pierre Dorion and Pierre Delaunay ; 
Dorion, as usual, being accompanied by his wife and children. 
The objects of this expedition were twofold — to trap beaver, 
and to search for the three hunters, Eobinson, Hoback, and 
Eezner. 

In the course of the autumn Eeed lost one man, Landry, by 
death; another one, Pierre Delaunay, who was of a sullen, per- 
verse disposition, left him in a moody fit, and was never heard 
of afterward. The number of his party was not, however, re- 
duced by these losses, as the three hunters Eobinson, Hoback, 
and Eezner, had joined it. 

Eeed now built a house on the Snake Eiver, for their winter 
quarters ; which, being completed the party set about trapping. 
Eezner, Le Clerc, and Pierre Dorion went about five days' 
journey from the wintering house, to a part of the country 
well stocked with beaver. Here they put up a hut, and pro- 
ceeded to trap with great success. While the men were out 
hunting, Pierre Dorion's wife remained at home to dress the 
skins and prepare the meals. She was thus employed one 
evening about the beginning of January, cooking the supper 
of the hunters, when she heard footsteps, and Le Clerc stag- 



ASTORIA. 371 

gered, pale and bleeding, into the hut. He informed her that 
a party of savages had surprised them while at their traps, and 
had killed Eezner and her husband. He had barely strength 
left to give this information, when he sank upon the ground. 

The poor woman saw that the only chance for life was in- 
stant flight, but, in this exigency, showed that presence of 
mind and force of character for which she had frequently been 
noted. With great difficulty she caught two of the horses 
belonging to the party. Then collecting her clothes, and a 
small quantity of beaver meat and dried salmon, she packed 
them upon one of the horses, and helped the wounded man to 
mount upon it. On the other horse she mounted with her two 
children, and hurried away from this dangerous neighborhood, 
directing her flight to Mr. Eeed's establishment. On the third 
day she descried a number of Indians on horseback proceeding 
in an easterly direction. She immediately dismounted with 
her children, and helped Le Clerc likewise to dismount, and all 
concealed themselves. Fortunately they escaped the sharp 
eyes of the savages, but had to proceed with the utmost cau- 
tion. That night they slept without fire or water ; she man- 
aged to keep her children warm in her arms ; but before morn- 
ing poor Le Clerc died. 

With the dawn of day the resolute woman resumed her 
course, and on the fourth day reached the house of Mr. Eeed. 
It was deserted, and all round were marks of blood and signs 
of a furious massacre. Not doubting that Mr. Eeed and his 
party had all fallen victims, she turned in fresh horror from 
the spot. For two days she continued hurrying forward, 
ready to sink for want of food, but more solicitous about her 
children than herself. At length she reached a range of the 
Eocky Mountains, near the upper part of the Wallah- Wallah 
Eiver. Here she chose a wild, lonely ravine as her place of 
winter refuge. 

She had fortunately a buffalo robe and three deer skins ; of 
these, and of pine bark and cedar branches, she constructed a 
rude wigwam, which she pitched beside a mountain spring. 
Having no other food, she killed the two horses, and smoked 
their flesh. The skins aided to cover her hut. Here she 
dragged out the winter, with no other company than her two 
children. Toward the middle of March her provisions were 
nearly exhausted. She therefore packed up the remainder, 
slung it on her back, and, with her helpless little ones, set out 
again on her wanderings, Crossing the ridge of mountains. 



372 ASTORIA. 

she descended to the banks of the Wallah- Wallah, and kept 
along them until she arrived where that river throws itself 
into the Columbia. She was hospitably received and enter' 
tained by the Wallah- Wallahs, and had been nearly two weeks 
among them when the two canoes passed. 

On being interrogated, she could assign no reason for this 
murderous attack of the savages ; it appeared to be perfectly 
wanton and unprovoked. Some of the Astorians supposed it 
an act of butchery by a roving band of Blackfeet; others, 
however, and with greater probability of correctness, have 
ascribed it to the tribe of Pierced-nose Indians, in revenge for 
the death of their comrade hanged by order of Mr. Clarke. If 
so, it shows that these sudden and apparently wanton out' 
breakings of sanguinary violence on the part of the savages 
have often some previous, though perhaps remote, provocation. 

The narrative of the Indian woman closes the checkered 
adventures of some of the personages of this motley story; 
such as the honest Hibernian Reed, and Dorion the hybrid 
interpreter. Turcot and La Chapelle were two of the men who 
fell off from Mr. Crooks in the course of his wintry journey, 
and had subsequently such disastrous times among the In- 
dians. We cannot but feel some sympathy with that per- 
severing trio of Kentuckians, Robinson, Rezner, and Hoback, 
who twice turned back when on their way homeward, and 
lingered in the wilderness to perish by the hands of savages. 

The return parties from Astoria, both by sea and land, ex- 
perienced on the way as many adventures, vicissitudes, and 
mishaps, as the far-famed heroes of the "Odyssey;" they 
reached their destination at different times, bearing tidings to 
Mr. Astor of the unfortunate termination of his enterprise. 

That gentleman, however, was not disposed, even yet, to 
give the matter up as lost. On the contrary, his spirit was 
roused by what he considered ungenerous and unmerited con- 
duct on the part of the Northwest Company. " After their 
treatment of me," said he in a letter to Mr. Hunt, " I have no 
idea of remaining quiet and idle." He determined, therefore, 
as soon as circumstances would permit, to resume his enter- 
prise. 

At the return of peace, Astoria, with the adjacent country, 
reverted to the United States by the treaty of Ghent, on the 
principle of status ante bellum, and Captain Biddle was dis- 
patched, in the sloop-of-war Ontario, to take formal repos- 
session. 



ASTORIA. 373 

In the winter of 1815 a law was passed by Congress prohibit- 
ing all traffic of British traders within the territories of the 
United States. 

The favorable moment seemed now to Mr. Astor to have 
arrived for the revival of his favorite enterprise, but new 
difficulties had grown up to impede it. The Northwest Com- 
pany were now in complete occupation of the Columbia Kiver, 
and its chief tributary streams, holding the posts which he 
had established, and carrying on a trade throughout the neigh- 
boring region, in defiance of the prohibitory law of Congress, 
which, in effect, was a dead letter beyond the mountains. 

To dispossess them would be an undertaking of almost a 
belligerent nature ; for their agents and retainers, were well 
armed, and skilled in the use of weapons, as is usual with 
Indian traders. The ferocious and bloody contests which had 
taken place between the rival trading parties of the Northwest 
and Hudson's Bay Companies had shown what might be ex- 
pected from commercial feuds in the lawless depths of the 
wilderness. Mr. Astor did not think it advisable, therefore, 
to attempt the matter without the protection of the American 
flag, under which his people might rally in case of need. He 
accordingly made an informal overture to the President of the 
United States, Mr. Madison, through Mr. Gallatin, offering to 
renew his enterprise, and to re-establish Astoria, provided it 
would be protected by the American flag, and made a military 
post, stating that the whole force required would not exceed a 
lieutenant's command. 

The application, approved and recommended by Mr. Gralla 
tin, one of the most enlightened statesmen of our country, was 
favorably received, but no step was taken in consequence ; the 
President not being disposed, in all probability, to commit 
himself by any direct countenance or overt act. Discouraged 
by this supjneness on the part of the government, Mr. Astor 
did not think fit to renew his overtures in a more formal man- 
ner, and the favorable moment for the re-occupation of Astoria 
was suffered to pass unimproved. 

The British trading establishments were thus enabled, with- 
out molestation, to strike deep their roots, and extend their 
ramifications, in despite of the prohibition of Congress, until 
they had spread themselves over the rich field of enterprise 
opened by Mr. Astor. The British government soon began to 
perceive the importance of this region, and to desire to include 
it within their territorial domains, A question has conse- 



374 * ASTORIA. 

quently risen as to the right to the soil, and has become one of 
the most perplexing now open between the United States and 
Great Britain. In the first treaty relative to it, under date of 
October 20th, 1818, the question was left unsettled, and it was 
agreed that the country on the northwest coast of America, 
westward of the Eocky Mountains, claimed by either nation, 
should be open to the inhabitants of both for ten years, for the 
purposes of trade, with the equal right of navigating all its 
rivers. "When these ten years had expired, a subsequent 
treaty, in 1828, extended the arrangement to ten additional 
years. So the matter stands at present. 

On casting back our eyes over the series of events we have 
recorded, we see no reason to attribute the failure of this great 
commercial undertaking to ar^y fault in the scheme, or omis- 
sion in the execution of it, on the part of the projector. It was 
a magnificent enterprise ; well concerted and carried on, with- 
out regard to difficulties or expense. A succession of adverse 
circumstances and cross purposes, however, beset it almost 
from the outset ; some of them, in fact, arising from neglect of 
the orders and instructions of Mr. Astor. The first crippling 
blow was the loss of the Tonquin, which clearly would not 
have happened had Mr. Astor's earnest injunctions with re- 
gard to the natives been attended to. Had this ship performed 
her voyage prosperously, and revisited Astoria in due time, 
the trade of the establishment would have taken its precon- 
certed course, and the spirits of all concerned been kept up by 
a confident prospect of success. Her dismal catastrophe struck 
a chill into every heart, and prepared the way for subsequent 
despondency. 

Another cause of embarrassment and loss was the departure 
from the plan of Mr. Astor, as to the voyage of the Beaver, 
subsequent to her visiting Astoria. The variation from this 
plan produced a series of cross purposes, disastrous to the 
establishment, and detained Mr. Hunt absent from his post, 
when his presence there was of vital importance to the enter- 
prise ; so essential is it for an agent, in any great and com- 
plicated undertaking, to execute faithfully, and to the letter, 
the part marked out for him by the master mind which has 
concerted the whole. 

The breaking out of the war between the United States and 
Great Britain multiplied the hazards and embarrassments of 
the enterprise. The disappointment as to convoy rendered it 
difficult to keep up reinforcements and supplies ; and the loss 
of the Lark added to the tissue of misadver +l,w>c ' 



ASTORIA. 375 

That Mr. Astor battled resolutely against every difficulty, 
and pursued his course in defiance of every loss, has been 
sufficiently shown. Had he been seconded by suitable agents, 
*md properly protected by government, the ultimate failure of 
his plan might yet have been averted. It was his great mis- 
fortune that his agents were not imbued with his own spirit. 
Some had not capacity sufficient to comprehend the real nature 
and extent of his scheme ; others were alien in feeling and in- 
terest, and had been brought up in the service of a rival com 
pany. Whatever sympathies they might originally have had 
with him, were impaired, if not destroyed, by the war. They 
looked upon his cause as desperate, and only considered how 
they might make interest to regain a situation under their for- 
mer employers. The absence of Mr. Hunt, the Only real 
representative of Mr. Astor, at the time of the capitulation 
with the Northwest Company, completed the series of cross 
purposes. Had that gentleman been present, the transfer, in 
all probability, would not have taken place. 

It is painful, at all times, to see a grand and beneficial stroke 
of genius fail of its aim : but we regret the failure of this enter- 
prise in a national point of view; for, had it been crowned 
with success, it would have redounded greatly to the advan- 
tage and extension of our commerce. That profits drawn from 
the country in question by the British Fur Company, though 
of ample amount, form no criterion by which to judge of the 
advantages that would have arisen had it been entirely in the 
hands of the citizens of the United States. That company, as 
has been shown, is limited in the nature and scope of its opera- 
tions, and can make but little use of the maritime facilities held 
out by an emporium and a harbor on that coast. In oui 
hands, besides the roving bands of trappers and traders, the 
country would have been explored and settled by industrious 
husbandmen ; and the fertile valleys bordering its rivers, and 
shut up among its mountains, would have been made to pour 
forth their agricultural treasures to contribute to the general 
wealth. 

In respect to commerce, we should have had a line of trading 
posts from the Mississippi and the Missouri across the Rocky 
Mountains, forming a high road from the great regions of the 
west to the shores of the Pacific. We should have had a forti 
fied post and port at the mouth of the Columbia, commanding 
the trade of that river and its tributaries, and of a wide extent 
of country and sea-coast ; carrying on an active and profitable 
commerce with the Sandwich Islands, and a direct and fre- 



376 ASTOBIA. 

quent communication with China. In a word, Astoria might 
have realized the anticipations of Mr. Astor, so well under- 
stood and appreciated by Mr. Jefferson, in gradually becoming 
a commercial empire beyond the mountains, peopled by "free 
and independent Americans, and linked with us by ties of 
blood and interest." 

We repeat, therefore, our sincere regret that our govern- 
ment should have neglected the overture of Mr. Astor, and 
suffered the moment to pass by, when full possession of this 
region might have been taken quietly, as a matter of course, 
and a military post established, without dispute, at Astoria. 
Our statesmen have become sensible, when too late, of the im- 
portance of this measure. Bills have repeatedly been brought 
into Congress for the purpose, but without success ; and our 
rightful possessions on that coast, as well as our trade on the 
Pacific, have no rallying point protected by the national flag, 
and by a military force. 

In the meantime the second period of ten years is fast elaps- 
ing. In 1838 the question of title will again come up, and most 
probably, in the present amicable state of our relations with 
Great Britain, will be again postponed. Every year, however, 
the litigated claim is growing in importance. There is no 
pride so jealous and irritable as the pride of territory. As one 
wave of emigration after another rolls into the vast regions of 
the west, and our settlements stretch toward the Rocky 
Mountains, the eager eyes of our pioneers will pry beyond, and 
they will become impatient of any barrier or impediment in 
the way of what they consider a grand outlet of our empire. 
Should any circumstance, therefore, unfortunately occur to 
disturb the present harmony of the two nations, this ill-ad- 
justed question, which now lies dormant, may suddenly start 
up into one of belligerent import, and Astoria become the 
watchword in a contest for dominion on the shores of the 
Pacific. 

Since the above was written, the question of dominion over 
the vast territory beyond the Rocky Mountains, which for a 
time threatened to disturb the peaceful relations with our 
transatlantic kindred, has been finally settled in a spirit of 
mutual concession, and the venerable projector, whose early 
enterprise forms the subject of this work, had the satisfaction 
of knowing, ere his eyes closed upon the world ; that the flag 
of his country again waved over " Astoria." 



APPENDIX. 



Draught of a petition to Congress, sent by Mr. Astor in 1812. 

T<s the honorable the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States, in 
Congress assembled. The petition of the American Fur Company 'respectfully 
showeth : 

That the trade with the several Indian tribes of North America, has, for many 
years past been almost exclusively carried on by the merchants of Canada ; who, 
having formed powerful and extensive associations for that purpose, being aided 
by British capital, and being encouraged by the favor and protection of the British 
government, could not be opposed, with any prospect of success, by individuals of 
the United States. 

That by means of the above trade, thus systematically pursued, not only the in- 
habitants of the United States have been deprived of commercial profits and advan- 
tages, to which they appear to have just and natural pretensions, but a great and 
dangerous influence has been established over the Indian tribes, difficult to be 
counteracted, and capable of being exerted at critical periods, to the great injury 
and annoyance of our frontier settlement. 

That in order to obtain at least a part of the above trade, and more particularly 
that which is within the boundaries of the United States, your petitioners, in the 
year 1808, obtained an act of incorporation from the State of New York, whereby 
they are enabled, with a competent capital, to carry on the said trade with the In- 
dians in such manner as may be conformable to the laws and regulations of the 
United States, in relation to such commerce. 

That the capital mentioned in the said act, amounting to one million of dollars, 
having been duly formed, your petitioners entered with zeal and alacrity into those 
large and important arrangements, which were necessary for, or conducive to, the 
object of their incorporation ; and, among other things, purchased a great part of 
the stock in trade, and trading establishments, of the Michilimackinac Company of 
Canada. Your petitioners also, with the expectation of great public and private 
advantage from the use of the said establishments, ordered, during the spring and 
summer of 1810, an assortment of goods from England, suitable for the Indian 
trade; which, in consequence of the President's proclamation of November of that 
year, were shipped to Canada instead of New York, and have been transported under 
a very heavy expense, into the interior of the country. But as they could not legally 
be brought into the Indian country within the boundaries of the United States, they 
have been stored on the Island of St. Joseph, in Lake Huron, where they now re- 
main. 

Your petitioners, with great deference and implicit submission to the wisdom of 
the national legislature, beg leave to suggest for consideration, whether they have 
not some claim to national attention and encouragement, from the nature and im- 
portance of their undertaking ; which though hazardous and uncertain as it con- 
cerns their private emolument, must, at any rate, redound]to the public security and 



378 APPENDIX, 

advantage. If their undertaking shall appear to be of the description given, they 
would further suggest to your honorable bodies, that unless they can procure a reg- 
ular supply for the trade in which they are engaged, it may languish, and be finally 
abandoned by American citizens ; when it will revert to its former channel, with 
additional, and perhaps with irresistible, power. 

Under these circumstances, and upon all those considerations of public policy 
which will present themselves to your honorable bodies, in connection with those 
already mentioned, your petitioners respectfully pray that a law may be passed to 
enable the President, or any of the heads of departments acting under his authority, 
to grant permits for the introduction of goods necessary for the supply of the In- 
dians, into the Indian country, that is, within the boundaries of the United States, 
under such regulations, and with such restrictions, as may secure the public reve- 
nue and promote the public welfare. 

And your petitioners shall ever pray, etc. 
In witness whereof, the common seal of the American Fur Company is hereunto 

affixed, the day of March, 1812. 

By order of the Corporation. 

An Act to enable the American Fur Company, and other citizens, to introduce 
goods necessary for the Indian trade into the territories within the boundaries of 
the United States. 

Whereas, the public peace and welfare require that the native Indian tribes re- 
siding within the boundaries of the United States, should receive their necessary 
supplies under the authority and from the citizens of the United States : Therefore, 
be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States, in 
Congress assembled, that it shall be lawful for the President of the United States, 
or any of the heads of departments thereunto by him duly authorized, from time 
to time to grant permits to the American Fur Company, their agents or factors, or 
any other citizens of the United States engaged in the Indian trade, to introduce 
into the Indian country, within the boundaries of the United States, such goods, 
wares, and merchandise, as may be necessary for the said trade, under such regu- 
lations and restrictions as the said President or heads of departments may judge 
proper; any law or regulation to the contrary, in anywise, notwithstanding. 



Letter from Mr. Gallatin to Mr. Astor, dated 

New York, August 5, 1835. 

Dear Sir : In compliance with your request, I will state such facts as I recollect 
touching the subjects mentioned in your letter of 28th ult. I may be mistaken re- 
specting dates and details, and will only relate general facts, which I well remem- 
ber. 

In conformity with the treaty of 1794 with Great Britain, the citizens and sub- 
jects of each country were permitted to trade with the Indians residing in the terri« 
tories of the other party. The reciprocity was altogether nominal. Since the con- 
quest of Canada, the British had inherited from the French the whole fur trade, 
through the great lakes and their communications, with all the western Indians, 
whether residing in the British dominions or the United States. They kept the im- 
portant western posts on those lakes till about the year 1797. And the defensive 
Indian war, which the United States had to sustain from 1776 to 1795, had still more 
alienated the Indians, and secured to the British their exclusive trade, carried 
through the lakes, wherever the Indians in that quarter lived. No American could, 
without imminent danger of property and life, carry on that trade, even within the 
United States, by the way of either Michilimackinac or St. Mary's. And indepen- 
dent of the loss of commerce, Great Britain was enabled to preserve a most danger- 
ous influence over our Indians. 



APPENDIX. 379 

It was under these circumstances that you communicated to our government the 
prospect you had to be able, and your intention, to purchase one half of the inter- 
est of the Canadian Fur Company, engaged in trade by the way of Michilimackinac 
with our own Indians. You wished to know whether the plan met with the appro- 
bation of government, and how far you could rely on its protection and encourage- 
ment. This overture was received with great satisfaction by the administration, 
and Mr. Jefferson, then President, wrote you to that effect. I was also directed, as 
Secretary of the Treasury, to write to you an official letter to the same purpose. 
On investigating the subject, it was found that the Executive had no authority to 
give you any direct aid ; and I believe that you received nothing more than an en- 
tire approbation of your plan, and general assurances of the protection due to 
every citizen engaged in lawful and useful pursuits. 

Ycu did effect the contemplated purchase, but in what year I do not recollect. 
Immediately before the war, you represented that a large quantity of merchandise, 
intended for the Indian trade, and including arms and munitions of war, belonging 
to that concern of which you owned one half, was deposited at a post on Lake 
Huron, within the British dominions; that, in order to prevent their ultimately fall- 
ing into the hands of Indians who might prove hostile, you were desirous to try to 
have them conveyed into the United States ; but that you were prevented by the 
then existing law of non-intercourse with the British dominions. 

The Executive could not annul the provisions of (that law. But I was directed to 
instruct the collectors on the lakes, in case you or your agents should voluntarily 
bring in and deliver to them any parts of the goods mentioned, to receive and keep 
them in their guard, and not to commence prosecutions until further instructions; 
the intention being then to apply to Congress for an act remitting the forfeiture 
and penalties. I wrote accordingly, to that effect, to the collectors of Detroit and 
Michilimackinac. 

The attempt to obtain the goods did not, however, succeed ; and I cannot say how 
far the failure injured you. But the war proved fatal to another much more exten- 
sive and important enterprise. 

Previous to that time, but I also forget the year, you had undertaken to carry on 
a trade on your own account, though I believe under the New York charter of the 
American Fur Company, with the Indians west of the Rocky Mountains. This pro- 
ject was also communicated to government, and met, of course, with its full appro- 
bation, and best wishes for your success. You carried it on, on the most extensive 
scale, sending several ships to the mouth of the Columbia River, and a large party 
by land across the mountains, and finally founding the establishment of Astoria. 

This unfortunately fell into the hands of the enemy during the war, from circum- 
stances with which I am but imperfectly acquainted— being then absent on a for- 
eign mission. I returned in September, 1815, and sailed again on a missiou to 
France in June, 1816. During that period I visited Washington twice— in October or 
November, 1816, and in March, 1816. On one of these two occasions, and I believe 
on the last, you mentioned to me that you were disposed once more to renew the 
attempt, and to re-establish Astoria, provided you had the protection of the Ameri- 
can flag: for which purpose a lieutenant's command would be sufficient to you. 
You requested me to mention this to the President, which I did. Mr. Madison said 
he would consider the subject, and, although he did not commit himself, I thought 
that he received the proposal favorably. The message was verbal, and I do not 
know whether the application was ever renewed in a more formal manner. I sailed 
soon after for Europe, and was seven years absent. I never had the pleasure- since 
J816, to see Mr. Madison, and never heard again anything concerning the subject in 
question. 

I remain, dear sir, most respectfully, 

Your obedient ser^nt, 

ALBERT SALLMTN, 

John Jac®b Astor, Esq., New York. 



380 APPENDIX. 



Notices of the present state of the Fur Trade, chiefly extracted from an article 
published in Silliman's Journal for January, 1834. 

The Northwest Company did not long* enjoy the sway they had acquired over the 
trading regions of the Columbia. A competition, ruinous in its expenses, which had 
long existed between them and the Hudson's Bay Company, ended in their down- 
fall and the ruin of most of the partners. The relict of the company became 
merged in the rival association, and the whole business was conducted under the 
name of the Hudson's Bay Company. 

This coalition took place in 1821. They then abandoned Astoria, and built a large 
establishment sixty miles up the river, on the right bank, which they called Fort 
Vancouver. This was in a neighborhood where provisions could be more readily 
procured, and where there was less danger from molestation by any naval force. 
The company are said to carry on an active and prosperous trade, and to give great 
encouragement to settlers. They are extremely jealous, however, of any interfer- 
ence or participation in their trade, and monopolize it from the coast of the Pacific 
to the mountains, and for a considerable extent north and south. The American 
traders and trappers who venture across the mountains, instead of enjoying the 
participation in the trade of the river and its tributaries, that had been stipulated 
by treaty, are obliged to keep to the south, out of the track of the Hudson's Bay 
parties. 

Mr. Astor has withdrawn entirely from the American Fur Company, as he has, 
in fact, from active business of every kind. That company is now headed by Mr. 
Ramsay Crooks ; its principal establishment is at Michilimackinac, and it receives 
its furs from the posts depending on that station, and from those on the Mississippi, 
Missouri, and Yellowstone Rivers, and the great range of country extending thence 
to the Rocky Mountains. This company has steamboats in its employ, with which 
it ascends the rivers, and penetrates to a vast distance into the bosom of those 
regions formerly so painfully explored in keel boats and barges, or by weary par- 
ties on horseback and on foot. The first irruption of steamboats into the heart of 
these vast wildernesses is said to have caused the utmost astonishment and affright 
among their savage inhabitants. 

In addition to the main companies already mentioned, minor associations have 
been formed, which push their way in the most intrepid manner to the remote 
parts of the far West, and beyond the mountain barriers. One of the most noted 
of these is Ashley's company, from St. Louis, who trap for themselves, and drive 
an extensive trade with the Indians. The spirit, enterprise, and hardihood of 
Ashley are themes of the highest eulogy in the far West, and his adventures and 
exploits furnish abundance of frontier stories. 

Another company of one hundred and fifty persons from New York, formed in 
1831, and headed by Captain Bonneville of the United States army, has pushed its 
enterprises into tracts before but little known, and has brought considerable quan- 
tities of furs from the region between the Rocky Mountains and the coasts of Mon^ 
terey and Upper California, on the Buenaventura and Timpanogos Rivers. 

The fur companies, from the Pacific east to the Rocky Mountains, are now occu- 
pied (exclusive of private combinations and individual trappers and traders) by the 
Russians ; and on the northwest, from Behring's Strait to Queen Charlotte's Island, 
in north latitude fifty-three degrees, and by the Hudson's Bay Company thence, 
south of the Columbia River ; while Ashley's company, and that under Captain 
Bonneville, take the remainder of the region to California. Indeed, the whole com- 
pass from the Mississippi to the Pacific Ocean is traversed in every direction. The 
mountains and forests, from the Arctic Sea to the Gulf of Mexico, are threaded, 
through every maze, by the hunter. Every river and tributary stream, from the 
Columbia to the mouth of the Rio del Norte, and from the M'Kenzie to the Colorado 
of the West, from their head springs to their junction, are searched and trapped 
for beaver. Almost all the American furs, which do not belong to the Hudson V 



APPENDIX. 381 

Bay Company, find their way to New York, and are either distributed thence for 
home consumption, or sent to foreign markets. 

The Hudson's Bay Company ship their furs from their factories of York Fort and 
from Moose River, on Hudson's Bay ; their collection from Grand River, etc., they 
ship from Canada ; and the collection from Columbia goes to London. None of 
their furs come to the United States, except through the Indian market. 

The export trade of furs from the United States is chiefly to London. Some 
quantities have been sent to Canton, and some few to Hamburg ; and an increasing 
export trade in beaver, otter, nutria, and vicunia wool, prepared for the hatter's 
use, is carried on in Mexico. Some furs are exported from Baltimore, Philadelphia, 
and Boston ; but the principal shipments from the United States are from New 
York to London, from whence they are sent to Leipsic, a well-known mart for furs, 
where they are disposed of during the great fair in that city, and distributed to 
every part of the continent. 

The United States import from South America, nutria, vicunia, chinchilla, and a 
few deer skins ; also fur seals from the Lobos Islands, off the river Plate. A quan- 
tity of beaver, otter, etc., are brought annually from Santa Fe\ Dressed furs for 
edgings, linings, caps, muffs, etc., such as squirrel, genet, fitch skins, and blue 
rabbit, are received from the north of Europe ; also coney and hare's fur ; but the 
largest importations are from London, where is concentrated nearly the whole of 
the North American fur trade. 

Such is the present state of the fur trade, by which it will appear that the ex- 
tended sway of the Hudson's Bay Company, and its monopoly of the region of 
which Astoria was the key, has operated to turn the main current of this opulent 
trade into the coffers of Great Britain, and to render London the emporium instead 
of New York, as Mr. Astor had intended. 

We will subjoin a few observations on the animals sought after in this traffic, 
extracted from the same intelligent source with the preceding remarks. 

Of the fur-bearing animals, "the precious ermine," so called by way of pre- 
eminence, is found, of the best quality, only in the cold regions of Europe and 
Asia.* Its fur is of the most perfect whiteness, except the tip of its tail, which is of 
a brilliant shining black. With these black tips tacked on the skins, they are beauti- 
fully spotted, producing an effect often imitated, but never equalled in other furs. 
The ermine is of the genus mustela (weasel), and resembles the common weasel in 
its form ; is from fourteen to sixteen inches from the tip of the nose to the end of 
the tail. The body is from ten to twelve inches long. It lives in hollow trees, 
river banks, and especially in beech forests; preys on small birds, is very shy, 
sleeping during the day, and employing the night in search of food. The fur of the 
older animals is preferred to the younger. It is taken by snares and traps, and 
sometimes shot with blunt arrows. Attempts have been made to domesticate it ; 
but it is extremely wild, and has been found untamable. 

The sable can scarcely be called second to the ermine. It is a native of Northern 
Europe and Siberia, and is also of the genus mustela. In Samoieda, Yakutsk, 
Kamschatka, and Russian Lapland, it is found of the richest quality and darkest 
color. In its habits it resembles the ermine. It preys on small squirrels and birds, 
sleeps by day, and prowls for food during the night. It is so like the marten,, in 
svery particular except its size, and the dark shade of its color, that naturalists 
have not decided whether it is the richest and finest of the marten tribe, or a variety 
of that species. t It varies in dimensions from eighteen to twenty inches. 



* An animal called the stoat, a kind of ermine, is said to be found in North Ameri- 
ca, but very inferior to the European and Asiatic. 

t The finest fur and the darkest color are most esteemed ; and whether the differ' 
ence arises from the age of the animal, or from some peculiarity of location, is not 
known. They do not vary more from the common marten than the Arabian horse 
from the shaggy Canadian. 



382 APPENDIX. 

The rich dark shades of the sable, and the snowy whiteness of the ermine, tho 
great depth, and the peculiar, almost flowing softness of their skins and fur, have 
combined to gain them a preference in all countries, and in all ages of the world. 
In this age they maintain the same relative estimate in regard to other furs, as 
when they marked the rank of the proud crusader, and were emblazoned in herald- 
ry; but in most European nations they are now worn promiscuously by the opu- 
lent. 

The martens from Northern Asia and the Mountains of Kamschatka are much 
superior to the American, though in every pack of American marten skins there are 
a certain number which are beautifully shaded, and of a dark brown olive color, of 
great depth and richness. 

Next these in value, for ornament and utility, are the sea otter, the mink, and the 
fiery fox. 

The fiery fox is the bright red of Asia ; is more brilliantly colored and of finer fur 
than any other of the genus. It is highly valued for the splendor of its red color 
and the fineness of its fur. It is the standard of value on the northeastern coast of 
Asia. 

The sea otter, which was first introduced into commerce in 1725, from the Aleu- 
tian and Kurile Islands, is an exceedingly fine, soft, close fur, jet black in winter, 
with a silken gloss. The fur of the 3 r oung animal is of a beautiful brown color. It 
is met with in great abundance in Behring's Island, Kamschatka, Aleutian and Fox 
Islands, and is also taken on the opposite coasts of North America. It is sometimes 
taken with nets, but more frequently with clubs and spears. Their food is princi- 
pally lobster and other shell-fish. 

In 1780 furs had become so scarce in Siberia that the supply was insufficient for 
the demand in the Asiatic countries. It was at this time that the sea otter was in- 
troduced into the markets for China. The skins brought such incredible prices as to 
originate immediately several American and British expeditions to the northern 
islands of the Pacific, to Nootka Sound and the northwest coast of America; but the 
Russians already had possession of the tract which they now hold, and had arranged 
a trade for the sea otter with the Koudek tribes. They do not engross the trade, 
however; the American northwest trading ships procure them, all along the coast, 
from the Indians. 

At one period the fur seals formed no inconsiderable item in the trade. South 
Georgia, in south latitude fifty-five degrees, discovered in 1675, was explored by 
Captain Cook in 1771. The Americans immediately commenced carrying seal skins 
thence to China, where they obtained the most exorbitant prices. One million two 
hundred thousand skins have been taken from that island alone, and nearly an 
equal number from the Island of Desolation, since they were first resorted to for 
the purpose of commerce. 

The discovery of the South Shetlands, sixty -three degrees south latitude, in 1818, 
added surprisingly to the trade in fur seals. The number taken from the South 
Shetlands in 1821 and 1822 amounted to three hundred and twenty thousand. This 
valuable animal is now almost extinct in all these islands, owing to the exterminat- 
ing system adopted by the hunters. They are still taken on the Lobos Islands, 
where the provident government of Montevideo restrict the fishery, or hunting, 
within certain limits, which insures annual return of the seals. At certain seasons 
these amphibia, for the purpose of renewing their coat, come up on the dark 
frowning rocks and precipices, where there is not a trace of vegetation. In the 
middle of January the islands are partially cleared of snow, where a few patches of 
short straggling grass spring up in favorable situations; but the seals do not resort 
to it for food. They remain on the rocks not less than two months, without any 
sustenance, when they return much emaciated to the sea. 

Bears of various species and colors, many varieties of the fox, the wolf, the 
beaver, the otter, the marten, the racoon, the badger, the wolverine, the mink, tha 
Jynx, the muskrat, the woodchuck, the rabbit, the hare, and the squirrel, are natives 
of North America. 



APPENDIX. 383 

The beaver, otter, fynx, fisher, hare, and racoon, are used principally for hats; 
while the bears of several varieties furnish an excellent material for sleigh linings, 
for cavalry caps, and other military equipments. The fur of the black fox is the 
most valuable of any of the American varieties; and next to that the red, which is 
exported to China and Smyrna. In China, the red is employed for trimmings, lin- 
ings, and robes, the latter being variegated by adding the black fur of the paws, in 
spots or waves. There are many other varieties of American fox, such as the gray, 
the white, the cross, the silver, and the dun -colored. The silver fox is a rare ani- 
mal, a native of the woody country below the falls of the Columbia River. It has a 
long, thick, deep lead-colored fur, intermingled with long hairs, invariably white at 
the top, forming a bright lustrous silver gray, esteemed by some more beautiful 
than any other kind of fox. 

The skins of the buffalo, of the Rocky Mountain sheep, of various deer and of the 
antelope, are included in the fur trade with the Indians and trappers of the north 
and west. 

Fox and seal skins are sent from Greenland to Denmark. The white fur of the 
arctic fox and polar bear is sometimes found in the packs brought to the traders by 
the most northern tribes of Indians, but is not particularly valuable. The silver- 
tipped rabbit is peculiar to England, and is sent thence to Russia and China. 

Other furs are employed and valued according to the caprices of fashion as well 
in those countries where they are needed for defences against severity of the sea- 
sons, as among the inhabitants of milder climates, who, being of Tartar or Sclavon- 
ian descent, are said to inherit an attachment to furred clothing. Such are the 
inhabitants of Poland, of Southern Russia, of China, of Persia, of Turkey and all 
the nations of Gothic origin in the middle and western parts of Europe. Under the 
burning suns of Syria and Egypt and the mild climes of Bucharia and Independent 
Tartary, there is also a constant demand, and a great consumption, where there 
exists no physical necessity. In our own temperate latitudes besides their use in 
the arts, they are in request for warmth during the winter, and large quantities are 
annually consumed for both purposes in the United States. 

From the foregoing statements it appears that the fur trade must henceforward 
decline. The advanced state of geographical science shows that no new countries 
remain to be explored. In North America the animals are slowly decreasing, from 
the persevering efforts and the indiscriminate slaughter practised by the hunters. 
and by the appropriation to the uses of man of those forests and rivers which have 
afforded them food and protection. They recede with the aborigines, before the 
tide of civilization ; but a diminished supply will remain in the mountains and un- 
cultivated tracts of this and other countries, if the avidity of the hunter can be 
restrained within proper limitations. 

Height of the Rocky Mountains. 

Various estimates have been made of the height of the Rocky Mountains, but it 
is doubtful whether any have, as yet, done justice to their real altitude, which 
promises to place them only second to the highest mountains of the known world. 
Their height has been diminished to the eye by the great elevation of the plains 
from which they rise. They consist, according to Long, of ridges, knobs, and 
peaks, variously disposed. The more elevated parts are covered with perpetual 
snows, which contribute to give them a luminous, and, at a great distance, even a 
brilliant appearance ; whence they derived, among some of the first discoverers, the 
name of the Shining Mountains. 

James's Peak has generally been cited as the highest of the chain ; and its eleva- 
tion above the common level has been ascertained, by a trigonometrical measure- 
ment, to be about eight thousand five hundred feet. Mr. Long, however, judged, 
from the position of the snow near the summits of other pea^s and ridges at no 
great distance from it, that they were much higher. Having heard Professor Ren- 
wick, of New York, express an altitude of these mountains far beyond what had 



384 APPENDIX. 

usually been ascribed to them, we applied to him for the authority on which he 
grounded his observation, and here subjoin his reply : 

Columbia College, New York, Feb. 23, 1836. 

Dear Sir : In compliance with your request, I have to communicate some facts 
in relation to the height of the Rocky Mountains, and the sources whence I obtained 
the information. 

In conversation with Simon M'Gillivray, Esq., a partner of the Northwest Com- 
pany, he stated to me his impression, that the mountains in the vicinity of the 
route pursued by the traders»of that company were nearly as high as the Himalay- 
as. He had himself crossed by this route, seen the snowy summits of the peaks-, 
and experienced a degree of cold which required a spirit thermometer to indicate it. 
His authority for the estimate of the heights was a gentleman who had been em- 
ployed for several years as surveyor of that company. This conversation oc- 
curred about sixteen years since. 

A year or two after I had the pleasure of dining at Major Delafield's with Mr. 
Thompson, the gentleman referred to by Mr. M'Gillivray. I inquired of him in 
relation to the circumstances mentioned by Mr. M'Gillivray, and he stated that, by 
the joint means of the barometric and trigonometric measurement, he had ascer- 
tained tVe height of one of the peaks to be about twenty -five thousand feet, and 
there were others of nearly the same height in the vicinity. 

I am, dear sir, yours truly, 

JAMES RENWICK. 

To W. Irving, Esq. 

Suggestions with respect to the Indian Tribes, and the Protection of our Trade. 

In the course of this work, a few general remarks have been hazarded respecting 
the Indian tribes of the prairies, and the dangers to be apprehended from them in 
future times to our trade beyond the Rocky Mountains and with the Spanish fron- 
tiers. Since writing those remarks, we have met with some excellent observations 
and suggestions, in manuscript, on the same subject, written by Captain Bonneville, 
of the United States army, who has lately returned from a long residence among 
the tribes of the Rocky Mountains. Captain B. approves highly of the plan recently 
adopted by the United States government for the organization of a regiment of 
dragoons for the protection of our western frontier, and the trade across the prai- 
ries. "No other species of military force," he observes, "is at all competent to 
cope with these restless and wandering hordes, who require to be opposed with 
swiftness quite as much as with strength; and the consciousness that a troop, uni- 
ting these qualifications, is always on the alert to avenge their outrages upon the 
settlers and traders, will go very far toward restraining them from the perpetration 
of those' thefts and murders which they have heretofore committed with impunity, 
whenever stratagem or superiority of force has given them the advantage. Their 
interest already has done something toward their pacification with our country- 
men. From the traders among them, they receive their supplies in the greatest 
abundance, and upon very equitable terms; and when it is remembered that a very 
considerable amount of property is yearly distributed among them by the govern- 
ment, as presents, it will readily be perceived that they are greatly dependent upon 
us for their most valued resources. If, superadded to this inducement, a frequent 
display of military power be made in their territories, there can be little doubt that 
the desired security and peace will be speedily afforded to our own people. But 
the idea of establishing a permanent amity and concord among the various east 
and west tribes themselves, seems to me, if not wholly impracticable, at least infin- 
itely more difficult than many excellent philanthropists have hoped and believed. 
Those nations which have so lately emigrated from the midst of our settlements to 
live upon our western borders, and have made some progress in agriculture and the 



APPENDIX. 385 

arts of civilization, have, in the property they have acquired, and the protection 
and aid extended to them, too many advantages to be induced readily to take up 
arms against us, particularly if they can be brought to the full conviction that their 
new homes will be permanent and undisturbed; and there is every reason and 
motive, in policy as well as humanity, for our ameliorating their condition by every 
means in our power. But the case is far different with regard to the Osages, the 
Kanzas, the Pawuses, and other roving hordes beyond the frontiers of the settle- 
ments. Wild and restless in their character and habits, they are by no means so 
susceptible of control or civilization; and they are urged by strong, and, to them, 
irresistible causes in their situation and necessities, to the daily perpetration of vio- 
lence and fraud. Their permanent subsistence, for example, is derived from the 
buffalo hunting grounds, which lie a great distance from their towns. Twice a 
year they are obliged to make long and dangerous expeditions, to procure the neces- 
sary provisions for themselves and their families. For this purpose horses are 
absolutely requisite, for their own comfort and safety, as well as for the transpor- 
tation of their food and their little stock of valuables; and without them they would 
be reduced, during a great portion of the year, to a state of abject misery and pri- 
vation. They have no brood mares, nor any trade sufficiently valuabje to supply 
their yearly losses, and endeavor to keep up their stock by stealing horses from 
the other tribes to the west and south-west. Our own people, and the tribes imme- 
diately upon our borders, may indeed be protected from their depredations ; and 
the Kanzas, Osages, Pawnees, and others, may be induced to remain at peace 
among themselves, so long as they are permitted to pursue the old custom of levy- 
ing upon the Camanches and other remote nations for their complement of steeds 
for the warriors, and pack-horses for their transportations to and from the hunting 
ground. But the instant they are forced to maintain a peaceful and inoffensive 
demeanor toward the tribes along the Mexican border, and find that every violation 
of their rights is followed by the avenging arm of our government, the result must 
be, that, reduced to a wretchedness and want which they can ill brook, and feeling 
the certainty of punishment for every attempt to ameliorate their condition in the 
only way they as yet comprehend, they will abandon their unfruitful territory and 
remove to the neighborhood of the Mexican lands, and there carry on a vigorous 
predatory warfare indiscriminately upon the Mexicans and our own people trading 
or travelling in that quarter. 

" The Indians of the prairies are almost innumerable. Their superior horseman- 
ship, which, in my opinion, far exceeds that of any other people on the face of the 
earth, their daring bravery, their cunning and skill in the warfare of the wilderness, 
and the astonishing rapidity and secrecy with which they are accustomed to move 
in their martial expeditions, will always render them most dangerous and vexatious 
neighbors, when their necessities or their discontents may drive them to hostility 
with our frontiers. Their mode and principles of warfare will always protect them 
from final and irretrievable defeat, and secure their families from participating in 
any blow however severe, which our retribution might deal out to them. 

"The Camanches lay the Mexicans under contribution for horses and mules, 
which they are always engaged in stealing from them in incredible numbers; and 
from the Camanches, all the roving tribes of the far West, by a similar exertion of 
skill and daring, supply themselves in turn. It seems to me, therefore, under all 
these circumstances, that the apparent futility of any philanthropic schemes for 
the benefit of these nations, and a regard for our own protection, concur in recom- 
mending that we remain satisfied with maintaining peace upon our own immediate 
borders, and leave the Mexicans and the Camanches, and all the tribes hostile to 
these last, to settle their differences and difficulties in their own way. 

4 'In order to give full security and protection to our trading parties circulating 
in all directions through the great prairies. I am under the impression that a few 
judicious measures on the part of the government, involving a very limited expense, 
would be sufficient. And, in attaining this end, which of itself has already become 
an object of public interest and import, another, of much greater consequence, 



386 APPENDIX. 

might be brought about, viz., the securing to the States a most valuable and in- 
creasing trade, now carried on by caravans directly to Santa Fe. 

" As to the first desideratum: the Indians can only be made to respect the lives 
and property of the American parties, by rendering them dependent upon us for 
their supplies ; which can alone be done with complete effect by the establishment 
of a trading post, with resident traders, at some point which will unite a sufficient 
number of advantages to attract the several tribes to itself, in preference to their 
present places of resort for that purpose; for it is a well-known fact that the Indians 
will always protect their trader, and those in whom he is interested, so long as they 
derive benefits from him. The alternative presented to those at the north, by the 
residence of the agents of the Hudson's Bay Company among them, renders the 
condition of our people in that quarter less secure ; but I think it will appear, at 
once upon the most cursory examination, that no such opposition further south 
could be maintained, so as to weaken the benefits of such an establishment as is 
here suggested. 

;t In considering this matter, the first question which presents itself is, Where do 
these tribes now make their exchanges, and obtain their necessary supplies?' They 
resort almost exclusively to the Mexicans, who themselves purchase from us what- 
ever the Indians most seek for. In this point of view, therefore, cceteris paribus, 
it would be an easy matter for us to monopolize the whole traffic. All that is want- 
ing is some location more convenient for the natives than that offered by the Mexi- 
cans, to give us the undisputed superiority, and the selection of such a point re- 
quires but a knowledge of the single fact, that these nations invariably winter upon 
the head waters of the Arkansas, and there prepare all their buffalo robes for 
trade. These robes are heavy, and to the Indian very difficult of transportation. 
Nothing but necessity induces them to travel any great distance with such inconve- 
nient baggage. A post, therefore, established upon the headwaters of the Arkansas, 
must infallibly secure an uncontested preference over that of the Mexicans, even at 
their prices and rates of barter. Then let the dragoons occasionally move about 
among these people in large parties, impressing them with the proper estimate of 
our power to protect and to punish, and at once we have complete and assured 
security for all citizens whose enterprise may lead them beyond the border, and an 
end to the outrages and depredations which now dog the footsteps of the traveller 
in the prairies, and arrest and depress the most advantageous commerce. Such a 
post need not be stronger than fifty men; twenty -five to be employed as hunters, to 
supply the garrison, and the residue as a defence against any hostility. Situated 
here upon the good lands of the Arkansas, in the midst of abundance of timber, 
while it might be kept up at a most inconsiderable expense, such an establishment 
within ninety miles of Santa Fe or Taos would be more than justified by the other 
and more important advantages before alluded to, leaving the protection of the 
traders with the Indian tribes entirely out of the question. 

" This great trade, carried on by caravans to Santa Fe. annually loads one hun- 
dred wagons with merchandise, which is bartered in the northern provinces of 
Mexico for cash and for beaver furs. The numerous articles excluded as contra- 
band, and the exorbitant duties laid upon all those that are admitted by the Mexi- 
can government, present so many obstacles to commerce, that I am well persuaded 
that if a post, such as is here suggested, should be established on the Arkansas, it 
would become the place of deposit, not only for the present trade, but for one infi- 
nitely more extended. Here the Mexicans might purchase their supplies, and might 
well afford to sell them at prices which would silence all competition from any 
other quarter. 

''These two trades, with the Mexicans and the Indians, centering at this post, 
would ?-ire rise to a large village of traders and laborers, and would undoubtedly 
be hailed, by all that section of country, as a permanent and invaluable advantage. 
A few pack-horses would carry all the clothing and ammunition necessary for the 
post during the first year, and two light field-pieces would be all the artillery re- 
quired for its defence. Afterward, all the horses required for the use of the estab- 



APPENDIX. 387 

lishment might be purchased from the Mexicans at the low price of ten dollars each; 
and, at the same time, whatever animals might be needed to supply the losses 
among the dragoons traversing the neighborhood, could be readily procured. The 
Upper Missouri Indians can furnish horses, at very cheap rates, to any number of 
the same troops who might be detailed for the defence of the northern frontier; 
and, in other respects, a very limited outlay of money would suffice to maintain a 
post in that section of the country. 

"From these considerations, and my own personal observation, I am, therefore, 
disposed to believe that two posts established by the government, one at the mouth 
of the Yellow Stone River, and one on the Arkansas, would completely protect all 
our people in every section of the great wilderness of the West; while other advan- 
tages, at least with regard to one of them, confirm and urge the suggestion. A fort 
at the mouth of Yellow Stone, garrisoned by fifty men, would be perfectly safe. 
The establishment might be constructed simply with a view to the stores, stables 
for the dragoons' horses, and quarters for the regular garrison ; the rest being pro- 
vided with sheds or lodges, erected in the vicinity, for their residence during the 
winter months." 



THE ENB- 



THE ADVENTURES 



OF 



CAPTAIN BONNEYILLE 



BY 



WASHINGTON IRVING. 

u • 



HS-i 



INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 



While engaged in writing an account of the grand enter 
prise of Astoria, it was my practice to seek all kinds of ora* 
information connected with the subject. Nowhere did I pick 
up more interesting particulars than at the table of Mr. John 
Jacob Astor, who, being the patriarch of the fur trade in the 
United States, was accustomed to have at his board various 
persons of adventurous turn, some of whom had been engaged 
in his own great undertaking ; others, on their own account, 
had made expeditions to the Rocky Mountains and the waters 
of the Columbia. 

Among these personages, one who peculiarly took my fancy 
was Captain Bonneville, of the United States army ; who, in a 
rambling kind of enterprise, had strangely ingrafted the trap- 
per and hunter upon the soldier. As his expeditions and ad- 
ventures will form the leading theme of the following pages, a 
few biographical particulars concerning him may not be unac- 
ceptable. 

Captain Bonneville is of French parentage. His father was 
a worthy old emigrant, who came to this country many years 
since, and took up his abode in New York. He is represented 
as a man not much calculated for the sordid struggle of a 
money-making world, but possessed of a happy temperament, 
a festivity of imagination, and a simplicity of heart that made 
him proof against its rubs and trials. He was an excellent 
scholar; well acquainted with Latin and Greek, and fond of 
the modern classics. His book was his elysium; once im- 
mersed in the pages of Voltaire, Corneille, or Eacine, or of his 
favorite English author, Shakspeare, he forgot the world and 
air its concerns. Often would he be seen, in summer weather, 
seated under one of the trees on the Battery, or the portico of 
St. Paul's Church in Broadway, his bald head uncovered, his 
hat lying by his side, his eyes riveted to the page of his book, 



4 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE, 

and his whole soul so engaged as to lose all consciousness of the 
passing throng or the passing hour. 

Captain Bonneville, it will be found, inherited something of 
his father's bonhomie, and his excitable imagination ; though 
the latter was somewhat disciplined in early years by mathe- 
matical studies. He was educated at our national Military 
Academy at West Point, where he acquitted himself very 
creditably ; thence, he entered the army, in which he has ever 
since continued. 

The nature of our military service took him to the frontier, 
where, for a number of years he was stationed at various 
posts in the Far West. Here he was brought into frequent 
intercourse with Indian traders, mountain trappers and other 
pioneers of the wilderness; and became so excited by their 
tales of wild scenes and wild adventures, and their accounts of 
vast and magnificent regions as yet unexplored, that an expe- 
dition to the Rocky Mountains became the ardent desire of his 
heart, and an enterprise to explore untrodden tracts, the lead- 
ing object of his ambition. 
" By degrees he shaped his vague day-dream into a practical 
reality. Having made himself acquainted with all the requi- 
sites for a trading enterprise beyond the mountains, he deter- 
mined to undertake it. A leave of absence and a sanction of 
his expedition was obtained from the major general in chief, 
on his offering to combine public utility with his private pro- 
jects, and to collect statistical information for the War De- 
partment concerning the wild countries and wild tribes he 
might visit in the course of his journeyings. 

Nothing now was wanting to the darling project of the cap- 
tain but the ways and means. The expedition would require 
an outfit of many thousand dollars ; a staggering obstacle to 
a soldier, whose capital is seldom anything more than his 
sword. Full of that buoyant hope, however, which belongs to 
the sanguine temperament, he repaired to New York, the 
great focus of American enterprise, where there are always 
funds ready for any scheme, however chimerical or romantic. 
Here he had the good fortune to meet with a gentleman of 
high respectability and influence, who had been his associate 
in boyhood, and who cherished a schoolfellow friendship for 
him. He took a general interest in the scheme of the captain : 
introduced him to commercial men of his acquaintance, and in 
a little while an association was formed, and the necessary 
funds were raised to carry the proposed measure into effect. 



INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 5 

One of the most efficient persons in this association was Mr. 
Alfred Seton, who, when quite a youth, had accompanied one 
of the expeditions sent out by Mr. Astor to his commercial es- 
tablishments on the Columbia, and had distinguished himself 
by his activity and courage at one of the interior posts. Mr. 
Seton was one of the American youths who were at Astoria at 
the time of its surrender to the British, and who manifested 
such grief and indignation at seeing the flag of their country 
hauled down. The hope of seeing that flag once more planted 
on the shores of the Columbia may have entered into his mo- 
tives for engaging in the present enterprise. 

Thus backed and provided, Captain Bonneville undertook 
his expedition into the Far West, and was soon beyond the 
Rocky Mountains. Year after year elapsed without his re- 
turn. The term of his leave of absence expired, yet no re- 
port was made of him at headquarters at Washington. He 
was considered virtually dead or lost, and his name was 
stricken from the army list. 

It was in the autumn of 1835, at the country seat of Mr. 
John Jacob Astor, at Hellgate, that I first met with Captain 
Bonneville. He was then just returned from a residence of 
upward of three years among the mountains, and was on his 
way to report himself at headquarters, in the hopes of being 
reinstated in the service. From all that I could learn, his 
wanderings in the wilderness, though they had gratified his 
curiosity and his love of adventure, had not much benefited 
his fortunes. Like Corporal Trim in his campaigns, he had 
" satisfied the sentiment," and that was all. In fact, he was 
too much of the frank, freehearted soldier, and had inherited 
too much of his father's temperament, to make a scheming 
trapper, or a thrifty bargainer. There was something in the 
whole appearance of the captain that prepossessed me in his 
favor. He was of the middle size, well made and well set ; and 
a military frock of foreign cut, that had seen service gave 
him a look of compactness. His countenance was frank, open, 
and engaging ; well browned by the sun, and had something of 
a French expression. He had a pleasant black eye, a high fore- 
head, aid, while he kept his hat on, the look of a man in the 
jocund prime of his days ; but the moment his head was un- 
covered, a bald crown gained him credit for a few more years 
than he was really entitled to. 

Being extremely curious, at the time, about everything con- 
nected with the Far West, I addressed numerous questions to 



(3 nfllODUCTORT NOTICE. 

him. They drew from him a number of extremely striking de- 
tails, which were given with mingled modesty and frankness ; 
and in a gentleness of manner, and a soft tone of voice, contrast- 
ing singularly with the wild and often startling nature of his 
themes. It was difficult to conceive the mild, quiet-looking 
personage before you, the actual hero of the stirring scenes 
related. 

In the course of three or four months, happening to be at th£ 
city of Washington, I again came upon the captain, who was 
attending the slow adjustment of his affairs with the War De- 
partment. I found him quartered with a worthy brother in 
arms, a major in the army. Here he was writing at a table, 
covered with maps and papers, in the centre of a large bar- 
rack room, fancifully decorated with Indian arms, and tro- 
phies, and war dresses, and the skins of various wild animals, 
and hung round with pictures of Indian games and ceremonies, 
and scenes of war and hunting. In a word, the captain was 
beguiling the tediousness of attendance at court by an attempt 
at authorship ; and was rewriting and extending his travelling 
notes, and making maps of the regions he had explored. As 
he sat at the table, in this curious apartment, with his high 
bald head of somewhat foreign cast, he reminded me of some 
of those antique pictures of authors that I have seen in old 
Spanish volumes. 

The result of his labors was a mass of manuscript, which he 
subsequently put at my disposal, to fit it for publication and 
bring it before the world. I found it full of interesting details 
of life among the mountains, and of the singular castes and 
races, both white men and red men, among whom he had 
sojourned. It bore, too, throughout, the impress of his charac- 
ter, his bonhomie, his kindliness of spirit, and his susceptibility 
to the grand and beautiful. 

That manuscript has formed the staple of the following 
work. I have occasionally interwoven facts and details, 
gathered from various sources, especially from the conversa- 
tions and journals of some of the captain's contemporaries, 
who were actors in the scenes he describes. I have also given 
it a tone and coloring drawn from my own observation during 
an excursion into the Indian country beyond the bounds of 
civilization; as I before observed, however, the work is sub- 
stantially the narrative of the worthy captain, and many of 
its most graphic passages are but little varied from his own 
language. 



INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 7 

I shall conclude this notice by a dedication which he had 
made of his manuscript to his hospitable brother in arms, in 
whose quarters I found him occupied in his literary labors ; it 
is a dedication which, I believe, possesses the qualities, not 
always found in complimentary documents of the kind, of 
being sincere, and being merited. 

TO 

JAMES HARVEY HOOK, 

MAJOR, U. S. A., 

WHOSE JEALOUSY OF ITS HONOR, 
WHOSE ANXIETY FOR ITS INTERESTS, 

AND 

WHOSE SENSIBILITY FOR ITS WANTS, 

HAVE ENDEARED HIM TO THE SERVICE AS 

(Ejje Soltrter's iFrienir; 

AND WHOSE GENERAL AMENITY, CONSTANT CHEERFULNESS, 

DISINTERESTED HOSPITALITY, AND UNWEARIED 

BENEVOLENCE, ENTITLE HIM TO THE 

STILL LOFTIER TITLE OF 

THE FRIEND OF MAN, 

THIS WORK IS INSCRIBED, 
ETC. 

New Toi% 1843. 



I 



ADVENTURES oF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Introductory Notice .•*•»«« 3 



CHAPTER I. 

State of the Fur Trade of the Rocky Mountains— American enterprise—General 
Ashley and his associates— Sublette, a famous leader — yearly rendezvous 
among the mountains— stratagems and dangers of the trade— bands of trap- 
pel's — Indian banditti— Crows and Blackfeet— Mountaineers — traders of the 
Far West— character and habits of the trapper Vt 



CHAPTER II. 

Departure from Fort Osage— modes of transportation— pack-horses— wagons- 
Walker and Cerre— their characters— buoyant feelings on launching upon the 
Prairies— wild equipments of the trappers— their gambols and antics— differ- 
ence of character between the American and French trappers — Agency of the 
Kansas— General Clarke— White Plume, the Indian chief— night scene in a 
trader's camp — colloquy between White Plume and the captain — bee-hunters 
—their expeditions— their feuds with the Indians— bargaining talent of White 
Plume 24 



CHAPTER HI. 

Wide Prairies — vegetable productions — tabular hills — slabs of sandstone — 
Nebraska, or Platte River— scanty fare — buffalo skulls — wagons turned into 
boats— herds of buffalo — cliffs resembling castles— The Chimney — Scott's 
Bluffs— story connected with them— the Bighorn or Ahsahta— its nature and 
habits— difference between that and the "Woolly Sheep," or Goat of t the 
Mountains 31 



CHAPTER IV. 

An alarm— Crow Indians— their appearances— mode of approach— their venge= 
ful errand— their curiosity— hostility between the Crows and Blackfeet— Iqv- 



10 CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

ing conduct of the Crows— Larmie's Fork— first navigation of the Nebraska- 
Great elevation of the country— rarity of the atmosphere— its effect on the 
woodwork of wagons— Black Hills— their wild and broken scenery— Indian 
dogs— Crow trophies— sterne and dreary country— banks of the Sweet Water 
—buffalo hunting— adventure of Tom Cain, the Irish cook 36 



CHAPTER V. 

Magnificent scenery— Wind River Mountains— treasury of waters— a stray horse 
—an Indian trail— trout streams— the great Green River valley— an alarm— a 
band of trappers— Fontenelle— his information— sufferings of thirst— encamp- 
ment on the Seeds-Ke-Dee— strategy of rival traders— fortification of the camp 
—the Blackfeet— banditti of the mountains— their character and habits 44 



CHAPTER VI. 

Sublette and his band— Robert Campbell— Mr. Wyeth and a band of "Down- 
Easters"— Yankee enterprise— Fitzpatrick— his adventure with the Blackfeet 
—a rendezvous of mountaineers— the battle of Pierre's Hole— an Indian am- 
buscade— Sublette's return 51 



CHAPTER VH. 

Retreat of the Blackfeet— Fontenelle' s camp in danger— Captain Bonneville and 
the Blackfeet — free trappers — their character, habits, dress, equipments, 
horses— game fellows of the mountains— then' visit to the camp— good fellow- 
ship and good cheer— a carouse— a swagger, a brawl, and a reconciliation. ... 61 



CHAPTER VIH. 

Plans for the winter— Salmon River— abundance of salmon west of the moun- 
tains—new arrangements — caches— CerrS's detachment — movement in Fon- 
tenelle's camp— departure of the Blackfeet— their fortunes— Wind [Mountain 
streams — Buckeye, the Delaware hunter, and the grizzly bear — bones of mur- 
dered travellers— visit to Pierre's Hole—traces of the battle— Nez Perces In- 
dians—arrival at Salmon River 65 



CHAPTER IX. 

Horses turned loose — preparations for winter quarters— hungry times— Nez 
Perces, their honesty, piety, pacific habits, religious ceremonies— Captain Bon- 
neville's conversations with them— their love of gambling 71 



CHAPTER X. 

Blackfeet in the horse prairie— search after the hunters— difficulties and dangers 
— a card party in the wilderness— the card party interrupted—" Old Sledge" a 
losing game— visitors to the camp— Iroquois hunters— hanging-eared Indians.. 75 



CHAPTER XI. 

Rival trapping parties— Man oeuvering— a desperate game— Vanderburgh and the 
Blackfeet— deserted camo— fire— a dark defile— an Indian ambush— a fierce 



CONTENTS. 11 

PAGE 

melee— fatal consequences— Fitzpatrick and the bridge— trappers' precautions 
— meeting with the Blackfeet — more fighting— anecdote of a young Mexican 
and an Indian girl : 79 

CHAPTER XII. 

A winter camp in the wilderness— medley of trappers, hunters, and Indians — 
scarcity of game— new arrangements in the camp— detachments sent to a dis- 
tance—carelessness of the Indians when encamped— sickness among the In- 
dians—excellent character of the Nez Perces— the Captain's effort as a pacifi- 
cator— a Nez Perces argument in favor of war— robberies by the Blackfeet — 
long suffering of the Nez Perces— a hunter's Elysium among the mountains — 
more robberies— the Captain preaches up a crusade —the effect upon his 
hearers 84 

. CHAPTER XIH. 
Story of Kosato, the renegade Blackfoot i 92 



CHAPTER XIV. 

The party enters the mountain gorge— a wild fastness among the hills— moun- 
tain mutton — peace and plenty — the amorous trapper — a piebald wedding — a 
free trapper's wife— her gala equipments— Christmas in the wilderness 95 

CHAPTER XV. 

A hunt after hunters— hungry times— a voracious repast— wintry weather— 
Godin's River— splendid winter scene on the great lava plain of Snake River- 
severe travelling and tramping in the snow— Manoeuvres of a solitary Indian 
horseman— encampment on Snake River— Banneck Indians— the horse chief— 
his charmed life 101 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Misadventures of Matthieu and his party— return to the caches at Salmon River 
—battle between Nez Perces and Blackfeet— heroism of ;a Nez Perces woman 
— enrolled among the braves 107 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Opening of the caches— detachments of Cerre" and Hodgkiss— Salmon River 
Mountains— superstition of an Indian trapper— Godin's River— preparations 
for trapping— an alarm— an interruption— a rival band— phenomena of Snake 
River plain— vast clefts and chasms— ingulfed streams— sublime scenery— a 
grand buffalo hunt 112 

CHAPTER XVIH. 

Meeting with Hodgkiss— misfortunes of the Nez Perces— schemes of Kosato, the 
renegade — his foray into the horse prairie — invasion of Blackfeet — Blue John 
and his Forlorn Hope— their generous enterprise— their fate— consternation 
and despair of the village— solemn obsequies— attempt at Indian trade— Hud- 
son's Bay Company's monopoly— arrangements for autumn— breaking up of 
an encampment 117 



12 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

PAGE 

Precautions in dangerous denies— trappers' mode of defence on a prairie— a 
mysterious visitor— arrival in Green River Valley— adventures of the detach- 
ments—the forlorn partisan— his tale of disasters 124 



CHAPTER XX. 

Gathering in Green River Valley— visitings and feastings of leaders— rough was- 
sailing among the trappers— wild blades of the mountains— Indian belles- 
potency of bright beads and red blankets— arrival of supplies— revelry and ex- 
travagance—mad wolves— the lost Indian 129 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Schemes of Captain Bonneville— the great Salt Lake— expedition to explore it- 
preparations for a journey to the Bighorn 133 



CHAPTER XXII. 

The Crow country— the Crow paradise— habits of the Crows— anecdotes of Rose, 
the renegade white man— his fights with the Blackfeet— his elevation— his 
death— Arapooish, the Crow chief —his eagle —adventure of Robert Campbell 
— honor among the Crows I*i5 



CHAPTER XXm. 

Departure from Green River Valley— Popo Agie— its course— the rivers into 
which it runs —scenery of the bluffs— the great Jar Spring— volcanic tracts in 
the Crow country— burning mountain of Powder River— Sulphur Springs- 
hidden fires— Colter's Hell— ^Vind River— Campbell's party— Fitzpatrick and 
his trappers— Captain Stewart, an amateur traveller— Nathaniel Wyeth— anec- 
dotes of his expedition to the Far West— disaster of Campbell's party— a union 
of bands— the bad pass— *he Rapids— departure of Fitzpatrick— embarkation 
of Peltries — Wyeth and bis bull boat — adventures of Captain Bonneville in the 
Bighorn Mountains— adventures in the plains— traces of Indians— travelling 
precautions— dangers of making a smoke— the rendezvous 141 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Adventures of ?a party of ten— the Balaamite mule— a dead point— the mysteri- 
ous elks— a night attack— a retreat— travelling under an alarm— a joyful meet- 
ing — adventures of the other party — a decoy elk — retreat to an island — a sav- 
age dance of triumph— arrival at Wind River 148 



CHAPTER XXV. 

Captain Bonneville sets out for Green River Valley— journey up the Popo Agie 
— buffaloes— the staring white bears— the smoke — the Warm Springs — attempt 
to traverse the Wind River Mountains— the great slope— mountain dells and 
chasms— crystal lakes— ascent of a snowy peak— sublime prospect — a pano- 
rama—" Les dignes de Pitie," or Wild Men of the Mountains 152 



CONTENTS. 13 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

PAGE 

A retrograde move— Channel of a mountain torrent — Alpine scenery — cascades 
—beaver valleys— beavers at work— their architecture— their modes of felling 
trees— mode of trapping the beaver— contests of skill— a beaver " up to trap " 
—arrival at the Green River caches — , 158 



CHAPTER XXVH. 

Route towards Wind River— dangerous neighborhood— alarms and precautions 
—a sham encampment— apparition of an Indian spy— midnight move— a 
mountain defile— the Wind River valley— tracking a party— deserted camps 
— symptoms^of Crows— meeting of comrades— a trapper entrapped— Crow 
pleasantry— Crow spies— a decampment— return to Green River Valley- 
meeting with Fitzpatrick's party— their adventures among the Crows— ortho- 
dox»Crows ; 163 



CHAPTER XXVIH. 

A. region of natural curiosities— the plain of white clay— Hot Springs— the Beer 
Spring— departure to seek the trappers— plain of Portneuf— lava— chasms and 
gullies— Banneck Indians— their hunt of the buffalo— hunters' feast— trencher 
heroes— bullying of an absent foe— the damp comrade— Indian spy— meeting 
with Hodgkiss— his adventures— Poordevil Indians— triumph of the Bannecks 
— Blackfeet policy in war 171 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

Winter camp at the Portneuf— fine springs— the Banneck Indians— their honesty 
— Captain Bonneville prepares for an expedition — Christmas— the American 
Falls — wild scenery — Fishing Falls — Snake Indians — scenery of the Bruneau — 
view of the volcanic country from a mountain — Powder River— Shoshokoes, 
or Root Diggers — their character, habits, habitations, dogs — vanity at its last 
shift ... 178 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Temperature of the climate— Root Diggers on horse— an Indian guide— moun- 
ptain prospects — the Grand Rond— difficulties on Snake River — a scramble over 
the Elue Mountains— sufferings from hunger— prospect of the Immahah Val- 
ley —the exhausted traveller 186 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

Progress in the Valley— an Indian cavalier— the Captain falls into a lethargy— 
a Nez Percys partriarch — hospitable treatment — the bald head— bargaining 
—value of an old plaid cloak— the family horse— the cost of an Indian present 192 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

Nez Perces camp— a chief with a hard name— the big hearts of the East— hos- 
pitable treatment— the Indian guides— mysterious councils— the loquacious 



14 CONTENTS, 

PA«E 

chief— Indian tomb— grand Indian reception— an Indian feast— town- criers- 
honesty of the Nez Perces— the Captain's attempt at healing 198 



CHAPTER XXXin. 

Scenery of the Way-Lee-Way— a substitute for tobacco— sublime scenery of 
Snake River— the garrulous old chief and his cousin— a Nez Perces meeting— 
a stolen skin— a scapegoat dog— mysterious conferences— the little chief —his 
hospitality— the Captain's account of the United States— his healing skill 205 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Fort Wallah- Wallah— its commander— Indians in its neighborhood— exertions 
of Mr. Pambrune for their improvement— religion— code of laws— range of the 
lower Nez Perces— Camash and other roots— Nez Perces horses— preparations 
for departure— refusal of supplies— departure— a laggard and glutton 212 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

The uninvited guest— free and easy manners— salutary jokes— a prodigal son- 
exit of the glutton— a sudden change in fortune— danger of a visit to poor 

• relations— plucking of a prosperous man— a vagabond toilet— a substitute for 
the very fine horse— hard travelling— the uninvited guest and the patriarchal 
colt— a beggar on horseback— a catastrophe— exit of the merry vagabond — 216 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

The difficult mountain— a smoke and consultation— the Captain's speech— an 
icy turnpike— danger of a false step— arrival on Snake River— return to Port- 
neuf— meeting of comrades 222 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Departure for the rendezvous— a war party of Blackfeet— a mock bustle— sham 
fights at night— warlike precautions— dangers of a night attack-a panic 
among horses— cautious march— the Beer Springs— a mock carousal— skir- 
mishing with buffaloes— a buffalo bait— arrival at the rendezvous— meeting 
of various bands ■ 2 ^7 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

Plan of the Salt Lake expedition— great sandy deserts— sufferings from thirst 
— Ogden's River— trails and smoke of lurking Indians— thefts at night— a trap- 
per's revenge— alarms of a guilty conscience— a murderous victory— Califor- 
tiian Mountains— plains along the Pacific— Arrival at Monterey— account of 
the place and neighborhood— Lower California— its extent— the peninsula- 
soil— climate— production— its settlement by the Jesuits— their sway over the 
Indians— their expulsion— ruins of a missionary establishment— sublime scen- 
ery—Upper California— missions— their power and policy— resources of the 
country— designs of foreign nations 231 



CONTENTS. 15 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

PAGE 

Gay life at Monterey— Mexican horsemen— a bold dragoon— use of the lasso— 
Vaqueros— noosing a bear— fight between a bull and a bear— departure from 
Monterey— Indian horse-stealers — outrages committed by the travellers— 
indignation of Captain Bonneville 238 



CHAPTER XL. 

Travellers' tales— Indian lurkers— prognostics of Buckeye— signs and 
the Medicine wolf— an alarm— an ambush— the captured provant— to**^^ Of 
Buckeye— arrival of supplies— grand carouse— arrangements for the year- 
Mr. Wyeth and his new-levied band 242 

CHAPTER XLI. 
A voyage in a bull boat 246 

CHAPTER XLII. 

Departure of Captain Bonneville for the Columbia— advance of Wyeth— efforts 
to keep the lead— Hudson's Bay party— a junketing— a delectable beverage- 
honey and alcohol — high carousing — the Canadian "bon vivant" — a cache — 
a rapid move— Wyeth and his plans— his travelling companions— buffalo hunt- 
ing—more conviviality— an interruption , 259 

CHAPTER XLIH. 

A rapid march— a cloud of dust— wild horsemen— " High jinks "—horse-racing 
and rifle shooting— the game of hand— the fishing season— mode of fishing- 
table lands— salmon fishers— the Captain's visit to an Indian lodge— the Indian 
girl— the pocket mirror— supper— troubles of an evil conscience 264 



CHAPTER XLIV. 

Outfit of a trapper— risks to which he is subjected— partnership of trappers- 
enmity of Indians — distant smoke— a country on fire — Gun Creek — Grand 
Rond— fine pastures— perplexities in a smoky country — conflagration of 
forests . 269 



CHAPTER XLV. 

The Skynses— their traffic— hunting— food— horses— a horse-race— devotional 
feeling of the Skynses, Nez Perces, and Flatheads— prayers— exhortations— 
a preacher on horseback — effect of religion on the manners of the tribes— 
a new light 273 



CHAPTER XLVI. 

Scarcity in the camp— refusal of supplies by the Hudson's Bay Company— con- 
duct of the Indians— a hungry retreat — John Day's River— the Blue Moun* 



16 CONTENTS. 

PAQB 

tains— salmon fishing on Snake River— messengers from the Crow country- 
Bear River Valley— immense immigration of Buffalo— danger of buffalo hunt- 
ing—a wounded Indian— Eutaw Indians — a " surround " of antelopes 277 



CHAPTER XLVH. 

A festive winter— conversion of the Shoshonies— visit of two free trappers- 
gay ety in the camp— a touch of the tender passion— the reclaimed squaw— 
an Indian fine lady— an elopement— a pursuit— market value of a bad wife ... 283 



CHAPTER XLVm. 

Breaking up of winter quarters— move to Green River— a trapper and his rifle— 
an arrival in camp— a free trapper and his squaw in distress— story of a Black- 
foot belle 287 



CHAPTER XLIX. 

Rendezvous at Wind River— campaign of Montero and his brigade in the Crow 
country — wars between the Crows and the Blackfeet— death of Arapooish — 
Blackfeet lurkers— sagacity of the horse— dependence of the hunter on his 
horse— return to the settlements 291 



APPENDIX. 

Nathaniel J. Wyeth and the trade of the Far West 298 

Wreck of a Japanese Junk on the Northwest Coast 300 



Adventures of Captain Bonneville, 



CHAPTER L 

STATE OF THE FUR TRADE OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS— AMERI* 
CAN ENTERPRISES— GENERAL ASHLEY AND HIS ASSOCIATES— 
SUBLETTE, A FAMOUS LEADER — YEARLY RENDEZVOUS AMONG 
THE MOUNTAINS— STRATAGEMS AND DANGERS OF THE TRADE- 
BANDS OF TRAPPERS— INDIAIT BANDITTI— CROWS AND BLACK- 
FEET— MOUNTAINEERS — TRADERS OF THE FAR WEST— CHARAC- 
TER AND HABITS OF THE TRAPPER. 

In a recent work we have given an account of the grand enter- 
prise of Mr. John Jacob Astor, to establish an American empo- 
rium for the fur trade at the mouth of the Columbia, or Oregon 
River ; of the failure of that enterprise through the capture of 
Astoria by the British, in 1814; and of the way in which the 
control of the trade of the Columbia and its dependencies fell 
into the hands of the Northwest Company. We have stated, 
likewise, the unfortunate supineness of the American Govern- 
ment, in neglecting the application of Mr. Astor for the protec- 
tion of the American flag, and a small military force, to enable 
him to reinstate himself in the possession of Astoria at the re- 
turn of peace ; when the post was formally given up by the 
British Government, though still occupied by the Northwest 
Company. By that supineness the sovereignty in the country 
has been virtually lost to the United States; and it will cost 
both governments much trouble and difficulty to settle matters 
on that just and rightful footing, on which they would readily 
have been placed, had the proposition of Mr a Astor been at- 
tended to. We shall now state a few particulars of subsequent 
events, so as to lead the reader up to the period of which we 



18 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

are about to treat, and to prepare him for the circumstances of 
our narrative. 

In consequence of the apathy and neglect of the American 
Government, Mr. Astor abandoned all thoughts of regaining 
Astoria, and made no further attempt to extend his enterprises 
beyond the Eocky Mountains; and the Northwest Company 
considered themselves the lords of the country. They did not 
long enjoy unmolested the sway which they had somewhat sur- 
reptitiously attained. A fierce competition ensued between them 
and their old rivals, the Hudson's Bay Company ; which was 
carried on at great cost and sacrifice, and occasionally with 
the loss of life. It ended in the ruin of most of the partners of 
the Northwest Company ; and the merging of the relics of that 
establishment, in 1821, in the rival association. From that 
time, the Hudson's Bay Company enjoyed a monopoly of the 
Indian trade from the coast of the Pacific to the Eocky Moun- 
tains, and for a considerable extent north and south. They 
removed their emporium from Astoria to Fort Vancouver, a 
strong post on the left bank of the Columbia Eiver, about sixty 
miles from its mouth; whence they furnished their interior 
posts, and sent forth their brigades of trappers. 

The Eocky Mountains formed a vast barrier between them 
and the United States, and their stern and awful defiles, their 
rugged valleys, and the great western plains watered by their 
rivers, remained almost a terra incognita to the American 
trapper. The difficulties experienced in 1808, by Mr. Henry, of 
the Missouri Company, the first American who trapped upon 
the head-waters of the Columbia ; and the frightful hardships 
sustained by Wilson P. Hunt, Eamsay Crooks, Eobert Stuart, 
and other intrepid Astorians, in their ill-fated expeditions 
across the mountains, appeared for a time to check all further 
enterprise in that direction. The American traders contented 
themselves with following up the head branches of the Mis- 
souri, the Yellowstone, and other rivers and streams on the 
Atlantic side of the mountains, but forbore to attempt those 
great snow-crowned sierras. 

One of the first to revive these tramontane expeditions was 
General Ashley, of Missouri, a man whose courage and achieve- 
ments in the prosecution of his enterprises have rendered him 
famous in the Far West. In conjunction with Mr. Henry, al- 
ready mentioned, he established a post on the banks of the 
Yellowstone Eiver, in 1822, and in the following year pushed a 
resolute band of trappers across the mountains to the banks of 



AD7ENTXTBE8 OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 19 

the Green River or Colorado of the West, often known by the 
Indian name of the Seeds-ke-dee Agie.* This attempt was fol- 
lowed up and sustained by others, until in 1825 a footing was 
secured, and a complete system of trapping organized beyond 
the mountains. 

It is difficult to do justice to the courage, fortitude, and per- 
severance of the pioneers of the fur trade, who conducted these 
early expeditions, and first broke their way through a wilder- 
ness where everything was calculated to deter and dismay 
them. They had to traverse the most dreary and desolate 
mountains, and barren and trackless wastes, uninhabited by 
man, or occasionally infested by predatory and cruel savages. 
They knew nothing of the country beyond the verge of theii 
horizon, and had to gather information as they wandered. 
They beheld volcanic plains stretching around them, and 
ranges of mountains piled up to the clouds and glistening with 
eternal frost ; but knew nothing of their defiles, nor how they 
were to be penetrated or traversed. They launched themselves 
in frail canoes on rivers, without knowing whither their swift 
currents would carry them, or what rocks, and shoals, and 
rapids, they might encounter in their course. They had to be 
continually on the alert, too, against the mountain tribes, who 
beset every defile, laid ambuscades in their path, or attacked 
them in their night encampments ; so that, of the hardy bands 
of trappers that first entered into these regions, three fifths are 
said to have fallen by the hands of savage foes. 

In this wild and warlike school a number of leaders have 
sprung up, originally in the employ, subsequently partners of 
Ashley; among these we may mention Smith, Fitzpatrick, 
Bridger, Robert Campbell, and William Sublette ; whose adven- 
tures and exploits partake of the wildest spirit of romance. 
The association commenced by General Ashley underwent va- 
rious modifications. That gentleman having acquired suffi- 
cient fortune, sold out his interest and retired ; and the leading 
spirit that succeeded him was Captain William Sublette ; a man 
worthy of note, as his name has become renowned in frontier 
story. He is a -native of Kentucky, and of game descent; 
his maternal grandfather, Colonel Wheatley, a companion of 
Boone, having been one of the pioneers of the West, celebrated 
in Indian warfare, and killed in one of the contests of the 
" Bloody Ground." We shall frequently have occasion to speak 



i.e. The Prairie Hen River, Agie in the Crow language signifies river. 



20 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

of this Sublette, and always to the credit of his game qualities. 
In 1830, the association took the name of the Rocky Mountain 
Fur Company, of which Captain Sublette and Robert Campbell 
were prominent members. 

In the meantime, the success of this company attracted the 
attention and excited the emulation of the American Fur Com 
pany and brought them once more into the field of their ancient 
enterprise. Mr. Astor, the founder of the association, had re- 
tired from busy life, and the concerns of the company were 
ably managed by Mr. Eamsay Crooks, of Snake River renown, 
who still officiates as its president. A competition immediate- 
ly ensued between the two companies, for the trade with the 
mountain tribes, and the trapping of the head-waters of the 
Columbia and the other great tributaries of the Pacific. Be- 
side the regular operations of these formidable rivals, there 
have been from time to time desultory enterprises, or rather 
experiments, of minor associations, or of adventurous indi- 
viduals, beside roving bands of independent trappers, who 
either hunt for themselves, or engage for a single season in the 
service of one or other of the main companies. 

The consequence is, that the Rocky Mountains and the ulte- 
rior regions, from the Russian possessions in the north down to 
the Spanish settlements of California, have been traversed and 
ransacked in every direction by bands of hunters and Indian 
traders; so that there is scarcely a mountain pass, or defile, 
that is not known and threaded in their restless migrations, 
nor a nameless stream that is not haunted by the lonely 
trapper. 

The American fur companies keep no established posts beyond 
the mountains. Everything there is regulated by resident part- 
ners; that is to say, partners who reside in the tramontane 
country, but who move about from place to place, either with 
Indian tribes, whose traffic they wish to monopolize, or with 
main bodies of their own men, whom they employ in trading 
and trapping. In the meantime, they detach bands, or " bri- 
gades" as they are termed, of trappers in various directions, as- 
signing to each a portion of country as a hunting or trapping 
ground. In the months of June and July, when there is an in- 
terval between the hunting seasons, a general rendezvous is 
held, at some designated place in the mountains, where the af- 
fairs of the past year are settled by the resident partners, and 
the plans for the following year arranged. 

To this rendezvous repair the various brigades of trappers 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 21 

from their widely separated hunting grounds, bringing in the 
products of their year's campaign. Hither also repair the In- 
dian tribes accustomed to traffic their peltries with the com- 
pany. Bands of free trappers resort hither also, to sell the 
furs they have collected ; or to engage their services for the 
next hunting season. 

To this rendezvous the company sends annually a convoy of 
supplies from its establishment on the Atlantic frontier, under 
the guidance of some experienced partner or officer. On the 
arrival of this convoy, the resident partner at the rendezvous 
depends, to set all his next year's machinery in motion. 

Now as the rival companies keep a vigilant eye upon each 
other, and are anxious to discover each other's plans and move- 
ments, they generally contrive to hold their annual assem- 
blages at no great distance apart. An eager competition ex- 
ists also between their respective convoys of supplies, which 
shall first reach its place of rendezvous. For this purpose they 
set off with the first appearance of grass on the Atlantic fron- 
tier, and push with all diligence for the mountains. The com 
pany that can first open its tempting supplies of coffee, tobac- 
co, ammunition, scarlet cloth, blankets, bright shawls, and 
glittering trinkets, has the greatest chance to get all the peltries 
and furs of the Indians and free trappers, and to engage their 
services for the next season. It is able, also, to fit out and dis- 
patch its own trappers the soonest, so as to get the start of its 
competitors, and to have the first dash into the hunting and 
trapping grounds. 

A new species of strategy has sprung out of this hunting and 
trapping competition. The constant study of the rival bands 
is to forestall and outwit each other ; to supplant each other in 
the good- will and custom of the Indian tribes ; to cross each 
other's plans ; to mislead each other as to routes ; in a word, 
next to his own advantage, the study of the Indian trader is the 
disadvantage of his competitor. 

The influx of this wandering trade has had its effects on the 
habits of the mountain tribes. They have found the trapping 
of the beaver their most profitable species of hunting ; and the 
traffic with the white man has opened to them sources of lux- 
ury of which they previously had no idea. The introduction 
of firearms has rendered them more successful hunters, but at 
the same time more formidable foes ; some of them incorrigibly 
savage and warlike in their nature have found the expeditions 
of the fur traders grand objects of profitable adventure. To 



22 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

waylay and harass a band of trappers with their pack-horses, 
when embarrassed in the rugged defiles of the mountains, has 
become as favorite an exploit with these Indians as the plunder 
of a caravan to the Arab of the desert. The Crows and Black- 
feet, who were such terrors in the path of the early adventurers 
to Astoria, still continue their predatory habits, but seem to 
have brought them to greater system. They know the routes 
and resorts of the trappers; where to waylay them on their 
journeys; where to find them in the hunting seasons, and 
where to hover about them in winter quarters. The life of a 
trapper, therefore, is a perpetual state militant, and he must 
sleep with his weapons in his hands. 

A new order of trappers and traders, also, has grown out of 
this system of things. In the old times of the great North- 
west Company, when the trade in furs was pursued chiefly 
about the lakes and rivers, the expeditions were carried on in 
batteaux and canoes. The voyageurs or boatmen were the 
rank and file in the service of the trader, and even the hardy 
"men of the north," those great rufflers and game birds, were 
fain to be paddled from point to point of their migrations. 

A totally different class has now sprung up;— " the Moun- 
taineers," the traders and trappers that scale the vast moun- 
tain chains, and pursue their hazardous vocations amid their 
wild recesses. They move from place to place on horseback. 
The equestrian exercises, therefore, in which they are en- 
gaged, the nature of the countries they traverse, vast plains 
and mountains, pure and exhilarating in atmospheric qualities, 
seem to make them physically and mentally a more lively and 
mercurial race than the fur traders and trappers of former 
days, the self -vaunting "men of the north." A man who be- 
strides a horse must be essentially different from a man who 
cowers in a canoe. We find them, accordingly, hardy, lithe, 
vigorous, and active ; extravagant in word, and thought, and 
deed; heedless of hardship; daring of danger; prodigal of the 
present, and thoughtless of the future. 

A difference is to be perceived even between these mountain 
hunters and those of the lower regions along the waters of the 
Missouri. The latter, generally French Creoles, live comfor- 
tably in cabins and log-huts, well sheltered from the inclem- 
encies of the seasons. They are within the reach of frequent 
supplies from the settlements; their life is comparatively free 
from danger, and from most of the vicissitudes of the upper 
wilderness. The consequence is, that they are less hardy, self 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 23 

dependent and game-spirited, than the mountaineer. If the 
latter by chance comes among them on his way to and from 
the settlements, he is like a game-cock among the common 
roosters of the poultry-yard. Accustomed to live in tents, or 
to bivouac in the open air, he despises the comforts and is im- 
patient of the confinement of the log-house. If his meal is 
not ready in season, he takes his rifle, hies to the forest ov 
prairie shoots his own game, lights his fire, and cooks his 
repast. With his horse and his rifle, he is independent of the 
world, and spurns at all its restraints. The very superintend- 
ents at the lower posts will not put him to mess with the com- 
mon men, the hirelings of the establishment, but treat him as 
something superior. 

There is, perhaps, no class of men on the face of the earth, 
says Captain Bonneville, who led a lif e of more continued ex- 
ertion, peril, and excitement, and who are more enamored of 
their occupations, than the free trappers of the West. No toil, 
no danger, no privation can turn the trapper from his pursuit. 
His passionate excitement at times resembles a mania. In vain 
may the most vigilant and cruel savages beset his path; in 
vain may rocks and precipices, and wintry torrents oppose his 
progress ; let but a single track of a beaver meet his eye, and 
he forgets all dangers and defies all difficulties. At times, he 
may be seen with his traps on his shoulder, buffeting his way 
across rapid streams, amid floating blocks of ice; at other 
times, he is to be found with his traps swung on his back 
climbing the most rugged mountains, scaling or descending 
the most frightful precipices, searching, by routes inaccessible 
to the horse, and never before trodden by white man, for 
springs and lakes unknown to his comrades, and where he 
may meet with his favorite game. Such is the mountaineer, 
the hardy trapper of the West ; and such, as we have slightly 
sketched it, is the wild, Robin Hood kind of life, with all its 
strange and motley populace, now existing in full vigor among 
the Eocky Mountains. 

Having thus given the reader some idea of the actual state of 
the fur trade in the interior of our vast continent, and made 
him acquainted with the wild chivalry of the mountains, we will 
no longer delay the introduction of Captain Bonneville and his 
band into this field of their enterprise, but launch them at 
once upon the perilous plains of the Far West. 



24 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTER II. 

DEPARTURE FROM FORT OSAGE — MODES OF TRANSPORTATION- 
PACK-HORSES — WAGONS— WALKER AND CERRE; THEIR CHAR 
ACTERS— BUOYANT FEELINGS ON LAUNCHING UPON THE -PRAI 
RIES— WILD EQUIPMENTS OF THE TRAPPERS — THEIR GAMBOLS 
AND ANTICS— DIFFERENCE OF CHARACTER BETWEEN THE AMER- 
ICAN AND FRENCH TRAPPERS — AGENCY OF THE KANSAS- 
GENERAL CLARKE— WHITE PLUME, THE KANSAS CHIEF— NIGHT 
SCENE IN A TRADER'S CAMP— COLLOQUY BETWEEN WHITE PLUME 
AND THE CAPTAIN— BEE-HUNTERS— THEIR EXPEDITIONS— THEIR 
FEUDS WITH THE INDIANS — BARGAINING TALENT OF WHITE 
PLUME. 

It was on the first of May, 1832, that Captain Bonneville 
took his departure from the frontier post of Fort Osage, on the 
Missouri. He had enlisted a party of one hundred and ten 
men, most of whom had been in the Indian country, and some 
of whom were experienced hunters and trappers. Fort Osage, 
and other places on the borders of the western wilderness, 
abound with characters of the kind, ready for any expedition. 

The ordinary mode of transportation in these great inland 
expeditions of the fur traders is on mules and pack-horses; but 
Captain Bonneville substituted wagons. Though he was to 
travel through a trackless wilderness, yet the greater part of 
his route would he across open plains, destitute of forests, and 
where wheel carriages can pass in every direction. The chief 
difficulty occurs in passing the deep ravines cut through the 
prairies by streams and winter torrents. Here it is often 
necessary to dig a road down the banks, and to make bridges 
for the wagons. 

In transporting his baggage in vehicles of this kind, Captain 
Bonneville thought he would save the great delay caused every 
morning by packing the horses, and the labor of unpacking in 
the evening. Fewer horses also would be required, and less risk 
incurred of their wandering away, or being frightened or car- 
ried off by the Indians. The wagons, also, would be more 
easily defended, and might form a kind of fortification in case 
of attack in the open prairies. A train of twenty wagons, 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 25 

drawn by oxen, or by four mules or horses each, and laden 
with merchandise, ammunition, and provisions, were disposed 
in two columns in the centre of the party, which was equally 
divided into a van and a rear-guard. As sub-leaders or lieu- 
tenants in his expedition, Captain Bonneville had made choice 
of Mr. I. R. Walker and Mr. M. S. Cerre. The former was a 
native of Tennessee, about six feet high, strong built, dark 
complexioned, brave in spirit, though mild in manners. He 
had resided for many years in Missouri, on the frontier ; had 
been among the earliest adventurers to Santa Fe, where he 
went to trap beaver, and was taken by the Spaniards. Being 
liberated, he engaged with the Spaniards and Sioux Indians in 
a war against the Pawnees ; then returned to Missouri, and had 
acted by turns as sheriff, trader, trapper, until he was enlisted 
as a leader by Captain Bonneville. 

Cerre, his other leader, had likewise been in expeditions to 
Santa Fe, in which he had endured much hardship. He was 
of the middle size, light complexioned, and though but about 
twenty-five years of age, was considered an experienced In- 
dian trader. It was a»great object with Captain Bonneville to 
get to the mountains before the summer heats and summer 
flies should render the travelling across the prairies distress- 
ing; and before the annual assemblages of people connected 
with the fur trade should have broken up, and dispersed to the 
hunting grounds. 

The two rival associations already mentioned, the American 
Fur Company and the Rocky Mountain Fur Company, had 
their several places of rendezvous for the present year at no 
great distance apart, in Pierre's Hole, a deep valley in the 
heart of the mountains, and thither Captain Bonneville in- 
tended to shape his course. 

It is not easy to do justice to the exulting feelings of the 
worthy captain, at finding himself at the head of a stout band 
of hunters, trappers, and woodmen; fairly launched on the 
broad prairies, with his face to the boundless west. The 
tamest inhabitant of cities, the veriest spoiled child of civili- 
zation, feels his heart dilate and his pulse beat high on finding 
himself on horseback in the glorious wilderness; what then 
must be the excitement of one whose imagination had been 
stimulated by a residence on the frontier, and to whom the 
wilderness was a region of romance ! 

His hardy followers partook of his excitement. Most of 
them had already experienced the wild freedom of savage life, 



26 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

and looked forward to a renewal of past scenes of adventure 
and exploit. Their very appearance and equipment exhibited 
a piebald mixture, half civilized and half savage. Many of 
them looked more like Indians than white men, in their garbs 
and accoutrements, and their very horses were caparisoned in 
barbaric style, with fantastic trappings. The outset of a band 
of adventurers on one of these expeditions is always animated 
and joyous. The welkin rang with their shouts and yelps, 
after the manner of the savages ; and with boisterous jokes 
and light- hearted laughter. As they passed the straggling 
hamlets and solitary cabins that fringe the skirts of the fron- 
tier, they would startle their inmates by Indian yells and war- 
whoops, or regale them with grotesque feats of horsemanship 
well suited to their half savage appearance. Most of these 
abodes were inhabited by men who had themselves been in 
similar expeditions; they welcomed the travellers, therefore, 
as brother trappers, treated them with a hunter's hospitality, 
and cheered them with an honest God speed at parting. 

And here we would remark a great difference, in point of 
character and quality, between the two classes of trappers, the 
" American" and " French," as they are called in contradis- 
tinction. The latter is meant to designate the French Creole 
of Canada or Louisiana; the former the trapper of the old 
American stock, from Kentucky, Tennessee, and others of the 
Western States. The French trapper is represented as a 
lighter, softer, more self-indulgent kind of man. He must 
have his Indian wife, his lodge, and his petty conveniences. 
He is gay and thoughtless, takes little heed of landmarks, de- 
pends upon his leaders and companions to think for the com- 
mon weal, and, if left to himself, is easily perplexed and lost. 

The American trapper stands by himself, and is peerless for 
the service of the wilderness. Drop him in the midst of a 
prairie, or in the heart of the mountains, and he is never at 
a loss. He notices every landmark; can retrace his route 
through the most monotonous plains, or the most perplexed 
labyrinths of the mountains; no danger nor difficulty can ap- 
pall him, and he scorns to complain under any privation. In 
equipping the two kinds of trappers, the Creole and Canadian 
are apt to prefer the light fusee ; the American always grasps 
his rifle; he despises what he calls the " shot-gun." We give 
these estimates on the authority of a trader of long experience, 
and a foreigner by birth. " I consider one American," said he; 
" equal to three Canadians in point of sagacity, aptness at 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 27 

resources, self-dependence, and fearlessness of spirit. In fact, 
no one can cope with him as a stark tramper of the wilder- 
ness." 

Beside the two classes of trappers just mentioned, Captain 
Bonneville had enlisted several Delaware Indians in his em- 
ploy, on whose hunting qualifications he placed great reliance. 

On the 6th of May the travellers passed the last border habi- 
tation, and bade a long farewell to the ease and security of 
civilization. The buoyant and clamorous spirits with which 
they had commenced their march gradually subsided as they 
entered upon its difficulties. They found the prairies saturated 
with the heavy cold rains prevalent in certain seasons of the 
year in this part of the country, the wagon wheels sank deep 
in the mire, the horses were often to the fetlock, and both 
steed and rider were completely jaded by the evening of the 
12th, when they reached the Kansas Eiver ; a fine stream 
about three hundred yards wide, entering the Missouri from 
the south. Though f ordable in almost every part at the end of 
summer and during the autumn, yet it was necessary to con- 
struct a raft for the transportation of the wagons and effects. 
All this was done in the course of the following day, and by 
evening the whole party arrived at the agency of the Kansas 
tribe. This was under the superintendence of General Clarke, 
brother of the celebrated traveller of the same name, who, 
with Lewis, made the first expedition down the waters of the 
Columbia. He was living like a patriarch, surrounded by 
laborers and interpreters, all snugly housed, and provided with 
excellent farms. The functionary next in consequence to the 
agent was the blacksmith, a most important, and, indeed, in- 
dispensable personage in a frontier community. The Kansas 
resemble the Osages in features, dress, and language; they 
raise corn and hunt the buffalo, ranging the Kansas River and 
its tributary streams ; at the time of the captain's visit they 
were at war with the Pawnees of the Nebraska, or Platte 
River. 

The unusual sight of a train of wagons caused quite a sensa- 
tion among these savages ; who thronged about the caravan, 
examining everything minutely, and asking a thousand ques- 
tions ; exhibiting a degree of excitability, and a lively curi- 
osity, totally opposite to that apathy with which their race is 
so often reproached. 

The personage who most attracted the captain's attention at 
this place was "White Plume," the Kansas chief, and they 



28 ADVENTURES OF C APT Alls BONNEVILLE. 

soon became good friends. White Plume (we are pleased with 
his chivalrous soubriquet) inhabited a large stone house, built 
for him by order of the American Government ; but the estab- * 
lishment had not been carried out in corresponding style. 
It might be palace without, but it was wigwam within; so 
that, between the stateliness of his mansion and the squalid-* 
ness of his furniture, the gallant White Plume presented some' 
such whimsical incongruity as we see in the gala equipments 
of an Indian chief on a treaty-making embassy at Washing- 
ton, who has been generously decked out in cocked hat and 
military coat, in contrast to his breech-clout and leathern 
leggins ; being grand officer at top, and ragged Indian at bot- 
tom. 

White Plume was so taken with the courtesy of the captain, 
and pleased with one or two presents received from him, that 
he accompanied him a day's journey on his march, and passed 
a night in his camp, on the margin of a small stream. The 
method of encamping generally observed by the captain was 
as follows : The twenty wagons were disposed in a square, at 
the distance of thirty-three feet from each other. In every 
interval there was a mess stationed; and each mess had its 
fire, where the men cooked, ate, gossiped, and slept. The 
horses were placed in the centre of the square, with a guard 
stationed over them at night. 

The horses were "side lined," as it is termed; that is to say, 
the fore and hind foot on the same side of the animal were 
tied together, so as to be within eighteen inches of each other. 
A horse thus fettered is for a time sadly embarrassed, but soon 
becomes sufficiently accustomed to the restraint to move about 
slowly. It prevents his wandering ; and his being easily car- 
ried off at night by lurking Indians. When a horse that is 
"foot free" is tied to one thus secured, the latter forms, as it 
were, a pivot, round which the other runs and curvets, in case 
of alarm. 

The encampment of which we are speaking presented a 
striking scene. The various mess-fires were surrounded by 
picturesque groups, standing, sitting, ' and reclining; some 
busied in cooking, others in cleaning their weapons; while 
the frequent laugh told that the rough joke or merry story 
was going on. In the middle of the camp, before the principal 
lodge, sat the two chieftains, Captain Bonneville and White 
Plume, in soldier-like communion, the captain delighted with 
the opportunity of meeting, on social terms, with one of the 



ADVENTURES OF VJLPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 29 

red warriors of the wilderness, the unsophisticated children of 
nature. The latter was squatted on his buffalo robe, his strong 
features and red skin glaring in the broad light of a blazing 
fire, while he recounted astounding tales of the bloody exploits 
of his tribe and himself in their wars with the Pawnees ; for 
there are no old soldiers more given to long campaigning 
stories than Indian "braves." 

The feuds of White Plume, however, had not been confined 
to the red men ; he had much to say of brushes with bee hunt- 
ers, a class of offenders for whom he seemed to cherish a 
particular abhorrence. As the species of hunting prosecuted 
by these worthies is not laid down in any of the ancient books 
of venerie, and is, in fact, peculiar to our western frontier, a 
word or two on the subject may not be unacceptable to the 
reader. 

The bee hunter is generally some settler on the verge of the 
prairies; a long, lank fellow, of fever and ague complexion, 
aequired from living on new soil, and in a hut built of green 
logs. In the autumn, when the harvest is over, these frontier 
settlers form parties of two or three, and prepare for a bee 
hunt. Having provided themselves with a wagon, and a num- 
ber of empty casks, they sally off, armed with their rifles, 
into the wilderness, directing their course east, west, north, or 
south, without any regard to the ordinance of the American 
Government which strictly forbids all trespass upon the lands 
belonging to the Indian tribes. 

The belts of woodland that traverse the lower prairies and 
border the rivers are peopled by innumerable swarms of wild 
bees, which make their hives in hollow trees, and fill them 
with honey tolled from the rich flowers of the prairies. The 
bees, according to popular assertion, are migrating, like the 
settlers, to the west. An Indian trader, well experienced in 
the country, informs us that within ten years that he has 
passed in the Far West, the bee has advanced westward above 
a hundred miles. It is said on the Missouri that the wild tur- 
key and the wild bee go up the river together; neither is found 
in the upper regions. It is but recently that the wild turkey 
has been killed on the Nebraska, or Platte ; and his travelling 
competitor, the wild bee, appeared there about the same time. 

Be all this as it may ; the course of our party of bee hunters 
is to make a wide circuit through the woody river bottoms, 
and the patches of forest on the prairies, marking, as they go 
out, every tree in which they have detected a hive. These 



30 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

marks are generally respected by any other bee hunter that 
should come upon their track. When they have marked suffi- 
cient to fill all their casks, they turn their faces homeward, cut 
down the trees as they proceed, and having loaded their 
wagon with honey and wax, return well pleased to the settle- 
ments. 

Now it so happens that the Indians relish wild honey as 
highly as do the white men, and are the more delighted with 
this natural luxury from its having, in many instances, but 
recently made its appearance in their lands. The consequence 
is numberless disputes and conflicts between them and the bee 
hunters ; and often a party of the latter, returning, laden with 
rich spoil from one of their forays, are apt to be waylaid by the 
native lords of the soil ; their honey to be seized, their harness 
cut to pieces, and themselves left to find their way home the 
best way they can, happy to escape with no greater personal 
harm than a sound rib-roasting. 

Such were the marauders of whose offences the gallant 
White Plume made the most bitter complaint. They were 
chiefly the settlers of the western part of Missouri, who are 
the most famous bee hunters on the frontier, and whose fa- 
vorite hunting ground lies within the lands of the Kansas 
tribe. According to the account of White Plume, however, 
matters were pretty fairly balanced between him and the of- 
fenders; he having as often treated them to a taste of the 
bitter, as they had robbed him of the sweets. 

It is but justice to this gallant chief to say that he gave 
proofs of having acquired some of the lights of civilization 
from his proximity to the whites, as was evinced in his knowl- 
edge of driving a bargain. He required hard cash in return 
for some corn with which he supplied the worthy captain, and 
left the latter at a loss which most to admire, his native chiv- 
alry as a brave or his acquired adroitness as a trader. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 31 



CHAPTEE III. 

WIDE FRAIRIES— VEGETABLE PRODUCTIONS — TABULAR HILLS- 
SLABS OF SANDSTONE— NEBRASKA OR PLATTE RIVER — SCANTY 
FARE— BUFFALO SKULLS— WAGONS TURNED INTO BOATS — 
HERDS OF BUFFALO— CLIFFS RESEMBLING CASTLES— THE CHIM- 
NEY — SCOTT'S BLUFFS — STORY CONNECTED WITH THEM — THE 
BIGHORN OR AHSAHTA— ITS NATURE AND HABITS — DIFFERENCE 
BETWEEN THAT AND THE " WOOLLY SHEEP," OR GOAT OF THE 
MOUNTAINS. 

From the middle to the end of May, Captain Bonneville pur- 
sued a western course over vast undulating plains, destitute of 
tree or shrub, rendered miry by occasional rain, and cut up by 
deep water-courses where they had to dig roads for their 
wagons down the soft crumbling banks, and to throw bridges 
across the streams. The weather had attained the summer 
heat ; the thermometer standing about fifty-seven degrees in 
the morning, early, but rising to about ninety degrees at noon. 
The incessant breezes, however, which sweep these vast plains, 
render the heats endurable. Game was scanty, and they had 
to eke out their scanty fare with wild roots and vegetables, such 
as the Indian potato, the wild onion, and the prairie tomato, and 
they met with quantities of " red root," from which the hunt- 
ers make a very palatable beverage. The only human being 
that crossed their path was a Kansas warrior, returning from 

^some solitary expedition of bravado or revenge, bearing a 

^Pawnee scalp as a trophy. 

The country gradually rose as they proceeded westward, and 
their route took them over high ridges, commanding wide and 
beautiful prospects. The vast plain was studded on the west 
with innumerable hills of conical shape, such as are seen north 
of the Arkansas River. These hills have their summits appar- 
ently cut off about the same elevation, so as to leave flat surfaces 
at top. It is conjectured by some that the whole country may 
originally have been of the altitude of these tabular hills, but 
through some process of nature may have sunk to its present 
level; these insulated eminences being protected by broad foun- 
dations of solid rock. 



32 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

Captain Bonneville mentions another geological' phenomenon 
north of Eed Kiver, where the surface of the earth, in consid- 
erable tracts of country, is covered with broad slabs of sand- 
stone, having the form and position of grave-stones, and look- 
ing as if they had been forced up by some subterranean 
agitation. "The resemblance," says he, "which these very 
remarkable spots have in many places to old churchyards is 
curious in the extreme. One might almost fancy himself 
among the tombs of the pre- Adamites." 

On the 2d of June they arrived on the main stream of the 
Nebraska or Platte Eiver ; twenty-five miles below the head of 
the Great Island. The low banks of this river give it an ap- 
pearance of great width. Captain Bonneville measured it in 
one place, and found it twenty-two hundred yards from bank 
to bank. Its depth was from three to six feet, the bottom full 
of quicksands. The Nebraska is studded with islands covered 
with that species of poplar called the cotton- wood tree. Keep- 
ing up along the course of this river for several days, they 
were obliged, from the scarcity of game, to put themselves 
upon short allowance, and occasionally to kill a steer. They 
bore their daily labors and privations, however, with great 
good humor, taking their tone, in all probability, from the 
buoyant spirit of their leader. ' ' If the weather was inclem- 
ent," says the captain, " we watched the clouds, and hoped for 
a sight of the blue sky and the merry sun. If food was scanty, 
we regaled ourselves with the hope of soon falling in with herds 
of buffalo, and having nothing to do but slay and eat." We 
doubt whether the genial captain is not describing the cheeri- 
ness of his own breast, which gave a cheery aspect to every- 
thing around him. 

There certainly were evidences, however, that the country 
was not always equally destitute of game. At one place they 
observed a field decorated with buffalo skulls, arranged in cir- 
cles, curves, and other mathematical figures, as if for some 
mystic rite or ceremony. They were almost innumerable, and 
seemed to have been a vast hecatomb offered up in thanks- 
giving to the Great Spirit for some signal success in the chase. 

On the 11th of June they came to the fork of the Nebraska, 
where it divides itself into two equal and beautiful streams. 
One of these branches rises in the west-southwest, near the 
head- waters of the Arkansas. Up the course of this branch, as 
Captain Bonneville was well aware, lay the route to the Ca- 
manche and Kioway Indians, and to the northern Mexican set- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 33 

tlements ; of the other branch he knew nothing. Its sources 
might lie among wild and inaccessible cliffs, and tumble 
and foam down rugged defiles and over craggy precipices; but 
its direction was in the true course, and up this stream he de- 
termined to prosecute his route to the Rocky Mountains. Find- 
ing it impossible, from quicksands and other dangerous impedi- 
ments, to cross the river in this neighborhood, he kept up 
along the south fork for two days, merely seeking a safe fording 
place. At length he encamped, caused the bodies of the wagons 
to be dislodged from the wheels, covered with buffalo hides, 
and besmeared with a compound of tallow and ashes; thus 
forming rude boats. In these they ferried their effects across 
the stream, which was six hundred yards wide, with a swift 
and strong current. Three men were in each boat, to^ manage 
it ; others waded across, pushing the barks before them. Thus 
all crossed in safety. A march of nine miles took them over 
high rolling prairies to the north fork; their eyes being regaled 
with the welcome sight of herds of buffalo at a distance, some 
careering the plain, others grazing and reposing in the natural 
meadows. 

Skirting along the north fork for a day or two, excessively 
annoyed by musquitoes and buffalo gnats, they reached, in the 
evening of the 17th, a small but beautiful grove, from which 
issued the confused notes of singing birds, the first they had 
heard since crossing the boundary of Missouri. After so many 
days of weary travelling, through a naked, monotonous and 
silent country, it was delightful once more to hear the song of 
the bird, and to behold the verdure of the grove. It was a 
beautiful sunset, and a sight of the glowing rays, mantling the 
tree-tops and rustling branches, gladdened every heart. They 
pitched their camp in the grove, kindled their fires, partook 
merrily of their rude fare, and resigned themselves to the 
sweetest sleep they had enjoyed since their outset upon the 
prairies. 

The country now became rugged and broken. High bluffs 
advanced upon the river, and forced the travellers occasionally 
to leave its banks and wind their course into the interior, 
In one of the wild and solitary passes they were startled by 
the trail of four or five pedestrians, whom they supposed to bo 
spies from some predatory camp of either Arickara or Crow 
Indians. This obliged them to redouble their vigilance at 
night, and to keep especial watch upon their horses. In these 
rugged and elevated regions they began to see the black- 



34 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

tailed deer, a species larger than the ordinary kind, and chiefly 
found in rocky and mountainous countries. They had reached 
also a great buffalo range; Captain Bonneville ascended a 
high bluff, commanding an extensive view of the surrounding 
plains. As far as his eye could reach, the country seemed 
absolutely blackened by innumerable herds. No language, he 
says, could convey an adequate idea of the vast living mass 
thus presented to his eye. He remarked that the bulls and 
cows generally congregated in separate herds. 

Opposite to the camp at this place was a singular phenom- 
enon, which is among the curiosities of the country. It is 
called the chimney. The lower part is a conical mound, rising 
out of the naked plain ; from the summit shoots up a shaft or 
column, about one hundred and twenty feet in height, from 
which it derives its name. The height of the whole, according 
to Captain Bonneville, is a hundred and seventy-five yards. 
It is composed of indurated clay, with alternate layers of red 
and white sandstone, and may be seen at the distance of up- 
ward of thirty miles. 

On the 21st they encamped amid high and beetling cliffs of 
indurated clay and sandstone, bearing the semblance of 
towers, castles, churches and fortified cities. At a distance it 
was scarcely possible to persuade one's self that the works of 
art were not mingled with these fantastic freaks of nature. 
They have received the name of Scott's Bluffs from a melan- 
choly circumstance. A number of years since, a party were 
descending the upper part of the river in canoes, when their 
frail barks were overturned and all their powder spoiled. 
Their rifles being thus rendered useless, they were unable to 
procure food by hunting and had to depend upon roots and 
wild fruits for subsistence. After suffering extremely from 
hunger, they arrived at Laramie's Fork, a small tributary of 
the north branch of the Nebraska, about sixty miles above the 
cliffs just mentioned. Here one of the party, by the name of 
Scott, was taken ill ; and his companions came to a halt, until 
he should recover health and strength sufficient to proceed. 
While they were searching round in quest of edible roots they 
discovered a fresh trail of white men, who had evidently but 
recently preceded them. What was to be done? By a forced 
march they might overtake this party, and thus be able to 
reach the settlements in safety. Should they linger they 
might all perish of famine and exhaustion. Scott, however f 
was incapable of moving; they were too feeble to aid him for- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 35 

ward, and dreaded that such a clog would prevent their com- 
ing up with the advance party. They determined, therefore, 
to abandon him to his fate. Accordingly, under pretence of 
seeking food, and such simples as might be efficacious in his 
malady, they deserted him and hastened forward upon the 
trail. They succeeded in overtaking the party of which they 
were in quest, but concealed their faithless desertion of Scott ; 
alleging that he had died of disease. 

On the ensuing summer, these very individuals visiting 
these parts in company with others, came suddenly upon the 
bleached bones and grinning skull of a human skeleton, which, 
by certain signs they recognized for the remains of Scott. 
This was sixty long miles from the place where they had 
abandoned him ; and it appeared that the wretched man had 
crawled that immense distance before death put an end to his 
miseries. The wild and picturesque bluffs in the neighborhood 
of his lonely grave have ever since borne his name. 

Amid this wild and striking scenery, Captain Bonneville, 
for the first time, beheld flocks of the ahsahta or bighorn, an 
animal which frequents these cliffs in great numbers. They 
accord with the nature of such scenery, and add much to its 
romantic effect ; bounding like goats from crag to crag, often 
trooping along the lofty shelves of the mountains, under the 
guidance of some venerable patriarch, with horns twisted 
lower than his muzzle, and sometimes peering over the edge of 
a precipice, so high that they appear scarce bigger than crows ; 
indeed, it seems a pleasure to them to seek the most rugged 
and frightful situations, doubtless from a feeling of security. 

This animal is commonly called the mountain sheep, and is 
often confounded with another animal, the "woolly sheep," 
found more to the northward, about the country of the Flat- 
heads. The latter likewise inhabits cliffs in summer, but 
descends into the valleys in the winter. It has white wool, 
like a sheep, mingled with a thin growth of long hair ; but it 
has short legs, a deep belly, and a beard like a goat. Its horns 
are about five inches long, slightly curved backward, black as 
jet, and beautifully polished. Its hoofs are of the same color. 
This animal is by no means so active as the bighorn, it does 
not bound much, but sits a good deal upon its haunches. It is 
not so plentiful either ; rarely more than two or three are seen 
at a time. Its wool alone gives a resemblance to the sheep ; it 
is more properly of the goat genus. The flesh is said to have a* 
musty flavor ; some have thought the fleece might be valuable, 



36 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

as it is said to be as fine as that of the goat of Cashmere, but i\ 
is not to be procured in sufficient quantities. 

The ahsahta, argali, or bighorn, on the contrary, has short 
hair like a deer, and resembles it in shape, but has the head 
and horns of a sheep, and its flesh is said to be delicious 
mutton. The Indians consider it more sweet and delicate 
than any other kind of venison. It abounds in the Rocky 
Mountains, from the fiftieth degree of north latitude quite 
down to California ; generally in the highest regions capable of 
vegetation ; sometimes it ventures into the valleys, but on the 
least alarm, regains its favorite cliff s and precipices, where it 
is perilous, if not impossible for the hunter to follow.* 



CHAPTER IV. 

AN ALARM— CROW INDIANS— THEIR APPEARANCE— MODE OF AP- 
PROACH—THEIR VENGEFUL ERRAND— THEIR CURIOSITY— HOS- 
TILITY BETWEEN THE CROWS AND BLACKFEET— LOVING CONDUCT 
OF THE CROWS — LARAMIE'S FORK — FIRST NAVIGATION OF THE 
NEBRASKA — GREAT ELEVATION OF THE COUNTRY— RARITY OF 
THE ATMOSPHERE— ITS EFFECT ON THE WOODWORK OF WAGONS 
—BLACK HILLS— THEIR WILD AND BROKEN SCENERY — INDIAN 
DOGS— CROW TROPHIES — STERLE AND DREARY COUNTRY — BANKS 
OF THE SWEET WATER— BUFFALO HUNTING — ADVENTURE OF 
TOM CAIN, THE IRISH COOK. 

When on the march, Captain Bonneville always sent some 
of his best hunters in the advance to reconnoitre the country, 
as well as to look out for game. On the 24th of May, as the 
caravan was slowly journeying up the banks of the Nebraska, 
the hunters came galloping back, waving their caps, and giving 
the alarm cry, Indians ! Indians ! 

The captain immediately ordered a halt : the hunters now 
came up and announced that a large war-party of Crow In- 
dians were just above, on the river. The captain knew the 
character of these savages; one of the most roving, warlike, 



* Dimensions of a male of this species: from the nose to the base of the tail, five 
feet; length of the tail, four inches; girth of the body, four feet; height, three feet 
eight inches; the horn, three feet six inches long; one foot three inches in circuit* 
f erence at base. 



ADVENTUEES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 37 

crafty, and predatory tribes of the mountains ; horse-stealers 
of the first order, and easily provoked to acts of sanguinary 
violence. Orders were accordingly given to prepare for action, 
and every one promptly took the post that had been assigned 
him, in the general order of the march, in all cases of warlike 
emergency. 

Everything being put in battle array, the captain took the 
lead of his little band, and moved on slowly and warily. In 
a little while he beheld the Crow warriors emerging from 
among the bluffs. There were about sixty of them; fine mar- 
tial-looking fellows, painted and arrayed for war, and mounted 
on horses decked out with all kinds of wild trappings. They 
came prancing along in gallant style, with many wild and 
dexterous evolutions, for none can surpass them in horseman- 
ship ; and their bright colors, and flaunting and fantastic em- 
bellishments, glaring and sparkling in the morning sunshine, 
gave them really a striking appearance. 

Their mode of approach, to one not acquainted with the tac- 
tics and ceremonTes of this rude chivalry of the wilderness, 
had an air of direct hostility. Thev came galloping forward 
in a body, as if about to make a furious charge, but, when 
close at hand, opened to the right and left, and wheeled in wide 
circles round the travellers, whooping and yelling like maniacs. 

This done, their mock fury sank into a calm, and the chief, 
approaching the captain, who had remained warily drawn up, 
though informed of the pacific nature of the manoeuvre, ex- 
tended to him the hand of friendship. The pipe of peace was 
smoked, and now all was good fellowship. 

The Crows were in pursuit of a band of Cheyennes, who had 
attacked their village in the night and killed one of their peo- 
ple. They had already been five and twenty days on the track 
of the marauders, and were determined not to return home 
until they had sated their revenge. 

A few days previously, some of their scouts, who were rang- 
ing the country at a distance from the main body, had discov- 
ered the party of Captain Bonneville. They had dogged it for 
a time in secret, astonished at the long train of wagons and 
oxen, and especially struck with the sight of a cow and calf, 
quietly following the caravan ; supposing them to be some kind 
of tame buffalo. Having satisfied their curiosity, they car- 
ried back to their chief intelligence of all that they had seen. 
He had, in consequence, diverged from his pursuit of ven- 
geance, to behold the wonders described to him. "Now that 



38 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

we have met you," said he to Captain Bonneville, "and have 
seen these marvels with our own eyes, our hearts are glad." 
In fact, nothing could exceed the curiosity evinced by these 
people as to the objects before them. Wagons had never 
been seen by them before, and they examined them with 
the greatest minuteness ; but the calf was the peculiar object 
of their admiration. They watched it with intense interest as 
it licked the hands accustomed to feed it, and were struck with 
the mild expression of its countenance, and its perfect docility. 

After much sage consultation, they at length determined that 
it must be the " great medicine" of the white party; an appella- 
tion given by the Indians to anything of supernatural and 
mysterious power, that is guarded as a talisman. They were 
completely thrown out in their conjecture, however, by an offer 
of the white men to exchange the calf for a horse ; their esti- 
mation of the great medicine sank in an instant, and they de- 
clined the bargain. 

At the request of the Crow chieftain the two parties en* 
camped together, and passed the residue of the day in company. 
The captain was well pleased with every opportunity to gain a 
knowledge of the "unsophisticated sons of nature," who had 
so long been objects of his poetic speculations ; and indeed this 
wild, horse-stealing tribe is one of the most notorious of the 
mountains. The chief, of course, had his scalps to show and his 
battles to recount. The Blackfoot is the hereditary enemy of 
the Crow, toward whom hostility is like a cherished princi- 
ple of religion ; for every tribe, besides its casual antagonists, 
has some enduring foe with whom there can be no permanent 
reconciliation. The Crows and Blackfeet, upon the whole, are 
enemies worthy of each other, being rogues and ruffians of the 
first water. As their predatory excursions extend over the 
same regions, they often come in contact with each other, and 
these casual conflicts serve to keep their wits awake and their 
passions alive. 

The present party of Crows, however, evinced nothing of the 
invidious character for which they are renowned. During the 
day and night that they were encamped in company with the 
travellers, their conduct was friendly in the extreme. They 
were, in fact, quite irksome in their attentions, and had a caress- 
ing manner at times quite importunate. It was not until after 
separation on the following morning, that the captain and his 
men ascertained the secret of all this loving-kindness. In the 
course of their fraternal caresses, the Crows had contrived to 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 39 

empty the pockets of their white brothers ; to abstract the very 
buttons from their coats, and, above all, to make free with 
their hunting knives. 

By equal altitudes of the sun, taken at this last encampment, 
Captain Bonneville ascertained his latitude to be 41° 47' north. 
The thermometer, at six o'clock in the morning, stood at fifty? 
nine degrees; at two o'clock, p.m., at ninety -two degrees; and 
at six o'clock in the evening, at seventy degrees. 

The Black Hills, or Mountains, now began to be seen at a 
distance, printing the horizon with their rugged and broken 
outlines ; and threatening to oppose a difficult barrier in the 
way of the travellers. 

On the 26th of May, the travellers encamped at Laramie's 
Fork, a clear and beautiful stream, rising in the west-south- 
west, maintaining an average width of twenty yards, and 
winding through broad meadows abounding in currants and 
gooseberries, and adorned with groves and clumps of trees. 

By an observation of Jupiter's satellites, with a Dolland 
reflecting telescope, Captain Bonneville ascertained the longi- 
tude to be 102° 57' west of Greenwich. 

We will here step ahead of our narrative to observe, that 
about three years after the time of which we are treating, Mr. 
Robert Campbell, formerly of the Rocky Mountain Fur Com- 
pany, descended the Platte from this fork, in skin canoes, 
thus proving, what had always been discredited, that the river 
was navigable. About the same time, he built a fort or trad- 
ing post at Laramie's Fork, which he named Fort William, 
after his friend and partner, Mr. William Sublette. Since 
that time, the Platte has become a highway for the fur 
traders. 

For some days past, Captain Bonneville had been made 
sensible of the great elevation of country into which he was 
gradually ascending, by che uffect of the dryness and rare- 
faction of the atmosphere upon his wagons. The woodwork 
shrunk ; the paint boxes of the wheels were continually work- 
ing out, and it was necessary to support the spokes by stout 
props to prevent their falling asunder. The travellers were 
now entering one of those great steppes of the Far West, 
where the prevalent aridity of the atmosphere renders the 
country unfit for cultivation. In these regions there is a 
fresh sweet growth of grass in the spring, but it is scanty and 
short, and parches up in the course of the summer, so that 
there is none for the hunters to set fire to in the autumn, It 



40 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

is a common observation that " above the forks of the Platte 
the grass does not burn." All attempts at agriculture and 
gardening in the neighborhood of Fort William have been 
attended with very little success. The grain and vegetables 
raised there have been scanty in quantity and poor in quality. 
The great elevation of these plains, and the dryness of the 
atmosphere, will tend to retain these immense regions in a 
state of pristine wildness. 

In the course of a day or two more, the travellers entered 
that wild and broken tract of the Crow country called the 
Black Hills, and here their journey became toilsome in the 
extreme. • Hugged steeps and deep ravines incessantly ob- 
structed their progress, so that a great part of the day was 
spent in the painful toil of digging through banks, filling up 
ravines, forcing the wagons up the most forbidding ascents, or 
swinging them with ropes down the face of dangerous preci- 
pices. The shoes of their horses were worn out, and their feet 
injured by the rugged and stony roads. The travellers were 
annoyed also by frequent but brief storms, which would come 
hurrying over the hills, or through the mountain defiles, rage 
with great fury for a short time, and then pass off, leaving 
everything calm and serene again. 

For several nights the camp had been infested by vagabond 
Indian dogs, prowling about in quest of food. They were 
about the size of a large pointer* with ears short and erect, 
and a long bushy tail — altogether, they bore a striking resem- 
blance to a wolf. These skulking visitors would keep about 
the purlieus of the camp until daylight ; when, on the first stir 
of life among the sleepers, they would scamper off until they 
reached some rising ground, where they would take their 
seats, and keep a sharp and hungry watch upon every move- 
ment. The moment the travellers were fairly on the march, 
and the camp was abandoned, these starveling hangers-on 
would hasten to the deserted fires to seize upon the half -picked 
bones, the offal and garbage that lay about ; and, having made 
a hasty meal, with many a snap and snarl and growl, would 
follow leisurely on the trail of the caravan. Many attempts 
were made to coax or catch them, but in vain. Their quick 
and suspicious eyes caught the slightest sinister movement, and 
they turned and scampered off. At length one was taken. 
He was terribly alarmed, and crouched and trembled as if 
expecting instant death. Soothed, however, by caresses, he 
began after a time to gather confidence and wag his tail, and 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 41 

at length was brought to follow close at the heels of his 
captors, still, however, darting around furtive and suspicious 
glances, and evincing a disposition to scamper off upon the 
least alarm. 

On the first of July the band of Crow warriors again crossed 
their path. They came in vaunting and vainglorious style; 
displaying five Cheyenne scalps, the trophies of their ven- 
geance. They were now bound homeward, to appease the 
manes of their comrade by these proofs thc^ his death had 
been revenged, and intended to have scalp dances and other 
triumphant rejoicings. Captain Bonneville and his men, how- 
ever, were by no means disposed to renew their confiding 
intimacy with these crafty savages, and above all, took care 
to avoid their pilfering caresses. They remarked one pre- 
caution of the Crows with respect to their horses ; to protect 
their hoofs from the sharp and jagged rocks among which 
they had to pass, they bad covered them with shoes of buffalo 
hide. 

The route of the travellers lay generally along the course of 
the Nebraska or Platte, but occasionally, where steep prom- 
ontories advanced to the margin of the stream, they were 
obliged to make inland circuits. One of these took them 
through a bold and stern country, bordered by a range of low 
mountains, running east and west. Everything around bore 
traces of some fearful convulsion of nature in times long past. 
Hitherto the various strata of rock had exhibited a gentle 
elevation toward the southwest, but here everything appeared 
to have been subverted, and thrown out of place. In many 
places there were heavy beds of white sandstone resting upon 
red. Immense strata of rocks jutted up into crags and cliffs ; 
and sometimes formed perpendicular walls and overhanging 
precipices. An air of sterility prevailed over these savage 
wastes. The valleys were destitute of herbage, and scantily 
clothed with a stunted species of wormwood, generally known 
among traders and trappers by the name of sage. From an 
elevated point of their march through this region, the travel- 
lers caught a beautiful view of the Powder Eock Mountains 
away to the north, stretching along the very verge of the 
horizon, and seeming, from the snow with which they were 
mantled, to be a chain of small white clouds connecting sky 
and earth. 

Though the thermometer at mid-day ranged from eighty to 
ninety, and even sometimes rose to ninety-three degrees, yet 



42 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

occasional spots of snow were to be seen on the tops of th* 
low mountains, among which the travellers were journeying; 
proofs of the great elevation of the whole region. 

The Nebraska, in its passage through the Black Hills, is 
confined to a much narrower channel than that through which 
it flows in the plains below ; but it is deeper and clearer, and 
rushes with a stronger current. The scenery, also, is more 
varied and beautiful. Sometimes it glides rapidly but smoothly 
through a picturesque valley, between wooded banks; then, 
forcing its way into the bosom of rugged mountains, it rushes 
impetuously through narrow defiles, roaring and foaming down 
rocks and rapids, until it is again soothed to rest in some peace- 
ful valley. 

On the 12th of July Captain Bonneville abandoned the main 
stream of the Nebraska, wh^ch was continually shouldered by 
rugged promontories, and making a bend to the southwest, for 
a couple of days, part of the time over plains of loose sand, en- 
camped on the 14th on the banks of the Sweet Water, a stream 
about twenty yards in breadth, and four or five feet deep, 
flowing between low banks over a "sandy soil, and forming one 
of the forks or upper branches of the Nebraska. Up this 
stream they now shaped their course for several successive 
days, tending generally to the west. The soil was light and 
sandy ; the country much diversified. Frequently the plains 
were studded with isolated blocks of rock, sometimes in the 
shape of a half globe, and from three to four hundred feet high. 
These singular masses had occasionally a very imposing, and 
even sublime appearance, rising from the midst of a savage and 
lonely landscape. 

As the travellers continued to advance, they became more 
and more sensible of the elevation of the country. The hills 
around were more generally capped with snow. The men 
complained of cramps and colics, sore lips and mouths, and vio- 
lent headaches. The wood- work of the wagons also shrank so 
much that it was with difficulty the wheels were kept from 
falling to pieces. The country bordering upon the river was 
frequently gashed with deep ravines, or traversed by high 
bluffs, to avoid which the travellers were obliged to make wide 
circuits through the plains. In the course of these, they came 
upon immense herds of buffalo, which kept scouring off in the 
van, like a retreating army. 

Among the motley retainers of the camp was Tom Cain, a 
raw Irishman, who officiated as cook, whose various blunders 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 43 

and expedients in his novel situation, and in the wild scenes 
and wild kind of lif e into which he had suddenly been thrown, 
had made him a kind of butt or droll of the camp. Tom, how- 
ever, began to discover an ambition superior to his station; 
and the conversation of the hunters, and their stories of their 
exploits, inspired him with a desire to elevate himself to the 
dignity of their order. The buffalo in such immense droves 
presented a tempting opportunity for making his first essay. 
He rode, in the line of march, all prepared for action: his 
powder flask and shot-pouch knowingly slung at the pommel 
of his saddle, to be at hand ; his rifle balanced on his shoulder. 
While in this plight a troop of buffalo came trotting by in great 
alarm. In an instant, Tom sprang from his horse and gave 
chase on foot. Finding they were leaving him behind, he 
levelled his rifle and pulled trigger. His shot produced no 
other effect than to increase the speed of the buffalo, and to 
frighten his own horse, who took to his heels, and scampered 
off with all the ammunition. Tom scampered after him, hal- 
looing with might and main, and the wild horse and wild Irish- 
man soon disappeared among the ravines of the prairie. Cap- 
tain Bonneville, who was at the head of the line, and had seen 
the transaction at a distance, detached a party in pursuit of 
Tom. After a long interval they returned, leading the fright- 
ened horse; but though they had scoured the country, and 
looked out and shouted from every height, they had seen 
nothing of his rider. 

As Captain Bonneville knew Tom's utter awkwardness and 
inexperience, and the dangers of a bewildered Irishman in the 
midst of a prairie, he halted and encamped at an early hour, 
that there might be a regular hunt for him in the morning. 

At early dawn on the following day scouts were sent off in 
every direction, while the main body, after breakfast, pro- 
ceeded slowly on its course. It was not until the middle of the 
afternoon that the hunters returned, with honest Tom mounted 
behind one of them. They had found him in a complete state 
of perplexity and amazement. His appearance caused shouts 
of merriment in the camp ; but Tom for once could not join 
in the mirth raised at his expense ; he was completely chap- 
fallen, and apparently cured of the hunting mania for the rest 
of his life. 



44 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE 



CHAPTEE V. 

MAGNIFICENT SCENERY— WIND RIYER MOUNTAINS— TREASURY OF 
WATERS— A STRAY HORSE— AN INDIAN TRAIL— TROUT STREAMS 
—THE GREAT GREEN RIYER YALLEY— AN ALARM— A BAND OF 
TRAPPERS— FONTENELLE, HIS INFORMATION — SUFFERINGS OF 
THIRST — ENCAMPMENT ON THE SEEDS-KE-DEE — STRATEGY OF 
RIYAL TRADERS — FORTIFICATION OF THE CAMP — THE BLACK- 
FEET— BANDITTI OF THE MOUNTAINS— THEIR CHARACTER AND 
HABITS. 

It was on the 20th of July that Captain BonneYille first came 
in sight of the grand region of his hopes and anticipations, the 
Eocky Mountains. He had been making a bend to the south, 
to avoid some obstacles along the river, and had attained a 
high, rocky ridge, when a magnificent prospect burst upon his 
sight. To the west rose the Wind Eiver Mountains, with their 
bleached and snowy summits towering into the clouds. These 
stretched far to the north-northwest, until they melted away 
into what appeared to be faint clouds, but which the experi- 
enced eyes of the veteran hunters of the party recognized for 
the rugged mountains of the Yellowstone ; at the feet of which 
extended the wild Crow country : a perilous, though profitable 
region for the trapper. 

To the southwest the eye ranged over an immense extent of 
wilderness, with what appeared to be a snowy vapor resting 
upon its horizon. This, however, was pointed out as another 
branch of the great Chippewyan, or Eocky chain ; being the 
Eutaw Mountains, at whose basis the wandering tribe of hunt- 
ers of the same name pitch their tents. 

We can imagine the enthusiasm of the worthy captain, when 
he beheld the vast and mountainous scene of his adventurous 
enterprise thus suddenly unveiled before him. We can imagine 
with what feelings of awe and admiration he must have con- 
templated the Wind Eiver Sierra, or bed of mountains ; that 
great fountain-head from whose springs, and lakes, and melted 
snows some of those mighty rivers take their rise, which wan- 
der over hundreds of miles of varied country and clime, and 
find their way to the opposite waves of the Atlantic andjbhe 
Pacific. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 45 

The Wind River Mountains are, in fact, among the most 
remarkable of the whole Eocky chain; and would appear to be 
among the loftiest. They form, as it were, a great bed of 
mountains, about eighty miles in length, and from twenty to 
thirty in breadth; with rugged peaks, covered with eternal 
Snows, and deep, narrow valleys, full of springs, and brooks, 
and rock-bound lakes. From this great treasury of waters 
issue forth limpid streams which, augmenting as they descend, 
become main tributaries of the Missouri on the one side, and 
the Columbia on the other ; and give rise to the Seeds-ke-dee 
Agie, or Green River, the great Colorado of the West, that 
empties its current into the Gulf of California. 

The Wind River Mountains are notorious in hunters' and 
trappers' stories: their rugged defiles, and the rough tracts 
about their neighborhood, having been lurking places for the 
predatory hordes of the mountains, and scenes of rough en- 
counter with Crows and Blackfeet. It was to the west of 
these mountains, in the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee Agie, or 
Green River, that Captain Bonneville intended to make a halt, 
for the purpose of giving repose to his people and his horses, 
after their weary journeying ; and of collecting information 
as to his future course. This Green River Valley, and its im- 
mediate neighborhood, as we have already observed, formed 
the main point of rendezvous, for the present year, of the rival 
fur companies, and the motley populace, civilized and savage, 
connected with them. Several days of rugged travel, how- 
ever, yet remained for the captain and his men before they 
should encamp in this desired resting-place. 

On the 21st of July, as they were pursuing their course 
through one of the meadows of the Sweet Water, they beheld 
a horse grazing at a little distance. He showed no alarm at 
their approach, but suffered himself quietly to be taken, evinc- 
ing a perfect state of tameness. The scouts of the party were 
instantly on the look-out for the owners of this animal, lest 
some dangerous band of savages might be lurking in the vicin- 
ity. After a narrow search, they discovered the trail of an 
Indian party, which had evidently passed through that neigh/ 
borhood but recently. The horse was accordingly taken pos- 
session of, as an estray ; but a more vigilant watch than usual 
was kept round the camp at nights, lest his former owners 
should be upon the prowl. 

The travellers had now attained so high an elevation, that 
on the 23d of July, at daybreak, there was considerable ice in 



46 ADVENTUEES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

the water-buckets, and the thermometer stood at twenty-two 
degrees. The rarity of the atmosphere continued to affect the 
wood- work of the wagons, and the wheels were incessantly 
falling to pieces. A remedy was at length devised. The tire 
of each wheel was taken off; a band of wood was nailed round 
the exterior of the felloes, the tire was then made red hot, re- 
placed round the wheel, and suddenly cooled with water. By 
this means, the whole was bound together with great compact- 
ness. 

The extreme elevation of these great steppes, which range 
along the feet of the Eocky Mountains, takes away from the 
seeming height of their peaks, which yield to few in the 
known world in point of altitude above the level of the sea. 

On the 24th, the travellers took final leave of the Sweet 
Water, and keeping westwardly, over a low and very rocky 
ridge, one of the most southern spurs of the Wind River Moun- 
tains, they encamped, after a march of seven hours and a half, 
on the banks of a small clear stream, running to the south, in 
which they caught a number of fine trout. 

The sight of these fish was hailed with pleasure, as a sign 
that they had reached the waters which flow into the Pacific ; 
for it is only on the western streams of the Rocky Mountains 
that trout are to be taken. The stream on which they had 
thus encamped proved, in effect, to be tributary to the Seeds- 
ke-dee Agie, or Green River, into which it flowed, at some dis- 
tance to the south. 

Captain Bonneville now considered himself as having fairly 
passed the crest of the Rocky Mountains ; and felt some degree of 
exultation in being the first individual that had crossed, north 
of the settled provinces of Mexico, from the waters of the At- 
lantic to those of the Pacific, with wagons. Mr. William Sub- 
lette, the enterprising leader of the Rocky Mountain Eur Com- 
pany, had, two or three years previously, reached the valley of 
the Wind River, which lies on the northeast of the mountains ; 
but had proceeded with them no further. 

A vast valley now spread itself before the travellers, 
bounded on one side by the Wind River Mountains, and to the 
west by a long range of high hills. This, Captain Bonneville 
was assured by a veteran hunter in his company, was the great 
valley of the Seeds-ke-dee; and the same informant would have 
fain persuaded him that a small stream, three feet deep, which 
he came to on the 25th, was that river. The captain was con- 
vinced, however, that the stream was too insignificant to 



ADVENTUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 47 

drain so wide a valley and the adjacent mountains: he en- 
camped, therefore, at an early hour, on its borders, that he 
might take the whole of the next day to reach the main river; 
which he presumed to flow between him and the distant range 
of western hills. 

On the 26th of July he commenced his march at an early 
hour, making directly across the valley, toward the hills in the 
west ; proceeding at as brisk a rate as the jaded condition of 
his horses would permit. About eleven o'clock in the morning 
a great cloud of dust was descried in the rear, advancing 
directly on the trail of the party. The alarm was given ; they 
all came to a halt, and held a council of war. Some conjec- 
tured that the band of Indians, whose trail they had discovered 
in the neighborhood of the stray horse, had been lying in wait 
for them, in some secret fastness of the mountains; and were 
about to attack them on the open plain, where they would 
have no shelter. Preparations were immediately made for de- 
fence; and a scouting party sent off to reconnoitre. They 
soon came galloping back, making signals that all was well. 
The cloud of dust was made by a band of fifty or sixty mounted 
trappers, belonging to the American Fur Company, who soon 
came up, leading their pack-horses. They were headed by Mr. 
Fontenelle, an experienced leader, or " partisan," as a chief of 
a party is called in the technical language of the trappers. 

Mr. Fontenelle informed Captain Bonneville that he was on 
his way from the company's trading post on the Yellowstone to 
the yearly rendezvous, with reinforcements and supplies for 
their hunting and trading parties beyond the mountains ; and 
that he expected to meet, by appointment, with a band of free 
trappers in that very neighborhood. He had fallen upon the 
trail of Captain Bonneville's party, just after leaving the Ne- 
braska ; and, finding that they had frightened off all the game, 
had been obliged to push on, by forced marches, to avoid 
famine; both men and horses were, therefore, much travel- 
worn; but this was no place to halt; the plain before them he 
said, was destitute of grass and water, neither of which would 
be met with short of the Green River, which was yet at a con- 
siderable distance. He hoped, he added, as his party were all 
on horseback, to reach the river, with hard travelling, by 
nightfall; but he doubted the possibility of Captain Bonne- 
ville's arrival there with his wagons before the day following. 
Having imparted this information, he pushed forward with all 
speed. 



48 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

Captain Bonneville followed on as fast as circumstances 
would permit. The ground was firm and gravelly; but the 
horses were too much fatigued to move rapidly. After a long 
and harassing day's march, without pausing for a noontide 
meal, they were compelled at nine o'clock at night to encamp 
in an open plain, destitute of water or pasturage. On the fol- 
lowing morning, the horses were turned loose at the peep of 
day, to slake their thirst, if possible, from the dew collected 
on the sparse grass, here and there springing up among dry 
sand-banks. The soil of a great part of this Green Kiver 
valley is a whitish clay, into which the rain cannot penetrate, 
but which dries and cracks with the sun. In some places it 
produces a salt weed, and grass along the margins of the 
streams ; but the wider expanses of it are desolate and barren. 
It was not until noon that Captain Bonneville reached the 
banks of the Seeds-ke-dee, or Colorado of the West; in the 
mean time, the sufferings of both men and horses had been 
excessive, and it was with almost frantic eagerness that they 
hurried to allay their burning thirst in the limpid current of 
the river. 

Fontenelle and his party had not fared much better; the 
chief part had managed to reach the river by nightfall, but 
were nearly knocked up by the exertion ; the horses of others 
sank under them, and they were obliged to pass the night upon 
the road. 

On the following morning, July 27, Fontenelle moved his 
camp across the river, while Captain Bonneville proceeded 
some little distance below, where there was a small but fresh 
meadow, yielding abundant pasturage. Here the poor jaded 
horses were turned out to graze, and take their rest: the 
weary journey up the mountains had worn them down in 
flesh and spirit ; but this last march across the thirsty plain 
had nearly finished them. 

The captain had here the first taste of the boasted strategy 
of the fur trade. During his brief but social encampment in 
company with Fontenelle, that experienced trapper had man- 
aged to win over a number of Delaware Indians whom the 
captain had brought with him, by offering them four hundred 
dollars each, for the ensuing autumnal hunt. The captain was 
somewhat astonished when he saw these hunters, on whose 
services he had calculated securely, suddenly pack up their 
traps, and go over to the rival camp. That he might in 
some measure, however, be even with his competitor, he dis- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 49 

patched two scouts to look out for the band of free trappers 
who were to meet Fontenelle in this neighborhood, and to en- 
deavor to bring them to his camp. 

As it would be necessary to remain some time in this neigh- 
borhood, that both men and horses might repose, and recruit 
their strength ; and as it was a region full of danger, Captain 
Bonneville proceeded to fortify his camp with breastworks of 
logs and pickets. 

These precautions were, at that time, peculiarly necessary 
from the bands of Blackf eet Indians which were roving about 
the neighborhood. These savages are the most dangerous ban- 
ditti of the mountains, and the inveterate foe of the trappers. 
They are Ishmaelites of the first order ; always with weapon 
in hand, ready for action. The young braves of the tribe, who 
are destitute of property, go to war for booty ; to gain horses, 
and acquire the means of setting up a lodge, supporting a 
family, and entitling themselves to a seat in the public coun- 
cils. The veteran warriors fight merely for the love of the 
thing, and the consequence which success gives them among 
their people. 

They are capital horsemen, and are generally well mounted 
on short, stout horses, similar to the prairie ponies to be met 
with at St. Louis. When on a war party, however, they go 
on foot, to enable them to skulk through the country with 
greater secrecy ; to keep in thickets and ravines, and use more 
adroit subterfuges and stratagems. Their mode of warfare is 
entirely by ambush, surprise, and sudden assaults in the night 
time. If they succeed in causing a panic, they dash forward 
with headlong fury: if the enemy is on the alert, and shows 
no signs of fear, they become wary and deliberate in their 
movements. 

Some of them are armed in the primitive style, with bows 
and arrows; the greater part have American fusees, made 
after the fashion of those of the Hudson's Bay Company. 
These they procure at the trading post of the American Fur 
Company, on Marias Eiver, where they traffic their peltries 
for arms, ammunition, clothing, and trinkets. They are ex- 
tremely fond of spirituous liquors and tobacco; for which 
nuisances they are ready to exchange, not merely their guns 
and horses, but even their wives and daughters. As they are 
a treacherous race, and have cherished a lurking hostility to 
the whites ever since one of their tribe was killed by Mr. 
Lewis, the associate of General Clarke in his exploring expedi- 



50 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

tion across the Rocky Mountains, the American Fur Company 
is obliged constantly to keep at that post a garrison of sixty or 
seventy men. 

Under the general name of Blackf eet are comprehended sev- 
eral tribes : such as the Surcies, the Peagans, the Blood Indians, 
and the Gros Ventres of the Prairies: who roam about the 
southern branches of the Yellowstone and Missouri Rivers, 
together with some other tribes further north. 

The bands infesting the Wind River Mountains, and the 
country adjacent, at the time of which we are treating, were 
Gros Ventres of the Prairies, which are not to be confounded 
with Gros Ventres of the Missouri, who keep about the lower 
part of that river, and are friendly to the white men. 

This hostile band keeps about the head waters of the Mis- 
souri, and numbers about nine hundred fighting men. Once 
in the course of two or three years they abandon their usual 
abodes, and make a visit to the Arapahoes of the Arkansas. 
Their route lies either through the Crow country, and the 
Black Hills, or through the lands of the Nez Perces, Flatheads, 
Bannacks, and Shoshonies. As they enjoy their favorite state 
of hostility with all these tribes, their expeditions are prone to 
be conducted in the most lawless and predatory style ; nor do 
they hesitate to extend their maraudings to any party of white 
men they meet with; following their trails; hovering about 
their camps ; waylaying and dodging the caravans of the free 
traders, and murdering the solitary trapper. The conse- 
quences are frequent and desperate fights between them and 
the " mountaineers," in the wild defiles and fastnesses of the 
Rocky Mountains. 

The band in question was, at this time, on their way home- 
ward from one of their customary visits to the Arapahoes; 
and in the ensuing chapter we shall treat of some bloody en- 
counters between them and the trappers, which had taken 
place just before the arrival of Captain Bonneville among the 
mountains. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 51 



CHAPTER VI. 

SUBLETTE AND HIS BAND— ROBERT CAMPBELL— MR. WYETH AND 
A BAND OF u DO WN-E ASTERS"— YANKEE ENTERPRISE — FITZ- 
PATRICK— HIS ADVENTURE WITH THE BLACKFEET— A RENDEZ- 
VOUS OF MOUNTAINEERS— THE BATTLE OF PIERRE'S HOLE — AN 
INDIAN AMBUSCADE— SUBLETTE'S RETURN. 

Leaving Captain Bonneville and his band ensconced within 
their fortified camp in the Green River valley, we shall step 
back and accompany a party of the Rocky Mountain Fur Com- 
pany in its progress, with supplies from St. Louis, to the 
annual rendezvous at Pierre's Hole. This party consisted of 
sixty men, well mounted, and conducting a line of pack-horses. 
They were commanded by Captain William Sublette, a part- 
ner in the company, and one of the most active, intrepid, and 
renowned leaders in this half military kind of service. He 
was accompanied by his associate in business, and tried com- 
panion in danger, Mr. Robert Campbell, one of the pioneers of 
the trade beyond the mountains, who had commanded trap- 
ping parties there in times of the greatest peril. 

As these worthy compeers were on their route to the fron- 
tier, they fell in with another expedition, likewise on its way 
to the mountains. This was a party of regular "down- 
easters," that is to say, people of New England who, with the 
all-penetrating and all-pervading spirit of their race were now 
pushing their way into a new field of enterprise with which 
they were totally unacquainted. The party had been fitted 
out and was maintained and commanded by Mr. Nathaniel J. 
Wyeth, of Boston.* This gentleman had conceived an idea 
that a profitable fishery for salmon might be established on the 
Columbia River, and connected with the fur trade. He had, 
accordingly, invested capital in goods, calculated, as he sup- 
posed, for the Indian trade, and had enlisted a number of 
eastern men in his employ, who had never been in the Far 
West, nor knew anything of *the wilderness. With these he 
was bravely steering his way across the continent, undismayed 



* In the former editions of this work we have erroneously given this enterprising 
individual the title of captain. 



52 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

by danger, difficulty, or distance, in the same way that a New 
England coaster and his neighbors will coolly launch forth on 
a voyage to the Black Sea or a whaling cruise to the Pacific. 

With all their national aptitude at expedient and resource, 
Wyeth and his men felt themselves completely at a loss when 
they reached the frontier, and found that the wilderness re- 
quired experience and habitudes of which they were totally 
deficient. Not one of the party, excepting the leader, had ever 
seen an Indian or handled a rifle ; they were without guide or 
interpreter, and totally unacquainted with "wood craft" and 
the modes of making their way among savage hordes, and sub- 
sisting themselves during long marches over wild mountains 
and barren plains. 

In this predicament, Captain Sublette found them, in a man- 
ner becalmed, or rather run aground, at the little frontier town 
of Independence in Missouri, and kindly took them in tow. 
The two parties travelled amicably together ; the frontier men 
of Sublette's party gave their Yankee comrades some lessons 
in hunting, and some insight into the art and mystery of deal- 
ing with the Indians, and they all arrived without accident at 
the upper branches of the Nebraska or Platte Eiver. 

In the course of their march, Mr. Fitzpatrick, the partner of 
the company who was resident at that time beyond the moun- 
tains, came down from the rendezvous at Pierre's Hole, to 
meet them and hurry them forward. He travelled in company 
with them until they reached the Sweet Water ; then taking a 
couple of horses, one for the saddle and the other as a pack- 
horse, he started off express for Pierre's Hole, to make arrange- 
ments against their arrival, that he might commence his 
hunting campaign before the rival company. 

Fitzpatrick was a hardy and experienced mountaineer, and 
knew all the passes and defiles. As he was pursuing his lonely 
course up the Green Eiver valley, he descried several horse- 
men at a distance, and came to a halt to reconnoitre. He sup- 
posed them to be some detachment from the rendezvous, or a 
party of friendly Indians. They perceived him, and setting 
up the war-whoop, dashed forward at full speed; he saw at 
once his mistake and his peril— they were Blackfeet. Spring- 
ing upon his fleetest horse, and abandoning the other to the 
enemy, he made for the mountains and succeeded in escaping 
up one of the most dangerous defiles. Here he concealed 
himself until he thought the Indians had gone off, when he 
returned into the valley. He was again pursued, lost his 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 53 

remaining horse, and only escaped by scrambling up among 
the cliffs. For several days he remained lurking among rocks 
and precipices and almost famished, having but one remain- 
ing charge in his rifle, which he kept for self-defence. 

In the meantime, Sublette and Campbell, with their fellow- 
traveller, Wyeth, had pursued their march unmolested, and 
arrived in the Green River valley, totally unconscious that 
there was any lurking enemy at hand. They had encamped 
one night on the banks of a small stream, which came down 
from the Wind River Mountains, when about midnight a band 
of Indians burst upon their camp, with horrible yells and 
whoops, and a discharge of guns and arrows. Happily no 
other harm was done than wounding one mule, and causing 
several horses to break loose from their pickets. The camp 
was instantly in arms ; but the Indians retreated with yells of 
exultation, carrying off several of the horses under covert of 
the night. 

This was somewhat of a disagreeable foretaste of mountain 
life to some of Wyeth's band, accustomed only to the regular 
and peaceful life of New England ; nor was it altogether to the 
taste of Captain Sublette's men, who were chiefly Creoles and 
townsmen from St. Louis. They continued their march the 
next morning, keeping scouts ahead and upon their flanks, and 
arrived without further molestation at Pierre's Hole. 

The first inquiry of Captain Sublette, on reaching the ren- 
dezvous, was for Fitzpatrick. He had not arrived, nor had 
any intelligence been received concerning him. Great uneasi- 
ness was now entertained, lest he should have fallen into the 
hands of the Blackfeet who had made the midnight attack 
upon the camp. It was a matter of general joy, therefore, 
when he made his appearance, conducted by two half-breed 
Iroquois hunters. He had lurked for several days among the 
mountains until almost starved ; at length he escaped the vigi- 
lance of his enemies in the night, and was so fortunate as to 
meet the two Iroquois hunters who, being on horseback, con- 
veyed him without further difficulty to the rendezvous. He 
arrived there so emaciated that he could scarcely be recog- 
nized. 

The valley called Pierre's Hole is about thirty miles in length 
and fifteen in width, bounded to the west and south by low 
and broken ridges, and overlooked to the east by three lofty 
mountains called the three Tetons, which domineer as land- 
marks over a vast extent of country. 



54 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

A fine stream, fed by rivulets and mountain springs, pours 
through the valley toward the north, dividing it into nearly 
equal parts. The meadows on its borders are broad and ex- 
tensive, covered with willow and cotton wood trees, so closely 
interlocked and matted together as to be nearly impassable. 

In this valley was congregated the motley populace connected 
with the fur trade. Here the two rival companies had their 
encampments, with their retainers of all kinds: traders, trap- 
pers, hunters, and half-breeds, assembled from all quarters, 
awaiting their yearly supplies, and their orders to start off in 
new directions. Here, also, the savage tribes connected with 
the trade, the Nez Perces or Chopunnish Indians, and Flat- 
heads, had pitched their lodges beside the streams, and with 
their squaws, awaited the distribution of goods and finery. 
There was, moreover, a band of fifteen free trappers, com- 
manded by a gallant leader from Arkansas, named Sinclair, 
who held their encampment a little apart from the rest. Such 
was the wild and heterogeneous assemblage, amounting to 
several hundred men, civilized and savage, distributed in tents 
and lodges in the several camps. 

The arrival of Captain Sublette with supplies put the Rocky 
Mountain Fur Company in full activity. The wares and mer- 
chandise were quickly opened, and as quickly disposed of to 
trappers and Indians ; the usual excitement and revelry took 
place, after which all hands began to disperse to their several 
destinations. 

On the 17th of July, a small brigade of fourteen trappers, led 
by Milton Sublette, brother of the captain, set out with the in* 
tention of proceeding to the southwest. They were accompa- 
nied by Sinclair and his fifteen free trappers ; Wyeth, also, and 
his New England band of beaver hunters and salmon fishers, 
now dwindled down to eleven, took this opportunity to prose- 
cute their cruise in the wilderness, accompanied with such 
experienced pilots. On the first day they proceeded about 
eight miles to the southeast, and encamped for the night, still 
in the valley of Pierre's Hole. On the following morning, just 
as they were raising their camp, they observed a long line of 
people pouring down a defile of the mountains. They at first 
supposed them to be Fontenelle and his party, whose arrival 
had been daily expected. Wyeth, however, reconnoitred them 
with a spy-glass, and soon perceived they were Indians. They 
were divided into two parties, forming, in the whole, about 
one hundred and fifty persons, men, women and children. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 55 

Some were on horseback, fantastically painted and arrayed, 
with scarlet blankets fluttering in the wind. The greater part, 
however, were on foot. They had perceived the trappers 
before they were themselves discovered, and came down yell- 
ing and whooping into the plain. On nearer approach they 
were ascertained to be Blackfeet. 

One of the trappers of Sublette's brigade, a half-breed, 
uamed Antoine Godin, now mounted his horso, and rode forth 
as if to hold a conference. He was the son of an Iroquois 
hunter, who had been cruelly murdered by the Blackfeet at a 
small stream below the mountains, which still bears his name. 
In company with Antoine rode forth a Flathead Indian, whose 
once powerful tribe had been completely broken down in their 
wars with the Blackfeet. Both of them, therefore, cherished 
the most vengeful hostility against these marauders of the 
mountains. The Blackfeet came to a halt. One of the chiefs 
advanced singly and unarmed, bearing the pipe of peace. 
This overture was certainly pacific ; but Antoine and the Flat- 
head were predisposed to hostility , and pretended to consider 
it a treacherous movemeut. 

" Is your piece charged?" said Antoine to his red companion. 

"It is." 

" Then cock it and follow me." 

They met the Blackfoot chief half-way, who extended his 
hand in friendship. Antoine grasped it. 

1 ' Fire !" cried he. 

The Flathead levelled his piece, and brought the Blackfoot 
to the ground. Antoine snatched off his scarlet blanket, which 
was richly ornamented, and galloped off with it as a trophy 
to the camp, the bullets of the enemy whistling after him. 
The Indians immediately threw themselves into the edge of a 
swamp, among willows and cottonwood trees, interwoven with 
vines. Here they began to fortify themselves; the women 
digging a trench, and throwing up a breastwork of logs and 
branches, deep hid in the bosom of the wood, while the war- 
riors skirmished at the edge to keep the trappers at bay. 

The latter took their station in a ravine in front, whence 
they kept up a scattering fire. As to Wyeth, and his little 
band of ' ' down-easters, " they were perfectly astounded by this 
second specimen of lif e in the wilderness ; the men, being es- 
pecially unused to bush-fighting and the use of the rifle, were 
at a loss how to proceed. Wyeth, however, acted as a skilful 
commander. He got all his horses into camp and secured 



56 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. . 

them; then, making a breastwork of his packs of goods, he 
charged his men to remain in garrison, and not to stir out of 
their fort. For himself, he mingled with the other leaders, 
determined to take his share in the conflict. 

In the meantime, an express had been sent off to the rendez- 
vous for reinforcements. Captain Sublette and his associate, 
Campbell, were at their camp when the express came galloping 
across the plain, waving his cap, and giving the alarm ; ' k Black- 
feet! Blackfeet! a fight in the upper part of the valley!— to 
arms ! to arms !" 

The alarm was passed from camp to camp. It was a com- 
mon cause. Every one turned out with horse and rifle. The 
Nez Perces and Flatheads joined. As fast as horseman could 
arm and mount he galloped off ; the valley was soon alive with 
white men and red men scouring at full speed. 

Sublette ordered his men to keep to the camp, ceing recruits 
from St. Louis, and unused to Indian warfare. He and his 
friend Campbell prepared for action. Throwing off their 
coats, rolling up their sleeves, and arming themselves with 
pistols and rifles, they mounted their horses and dashed for- 
ward among the first. As they rode along, they made their 
wills in soldier-like style ; each stating how his effects should 
be disposed of in case of his death, and appointing the other 
his executor. 

The Blackfeet warriors had supposed the brigade of Milton 
Sublette all the foes they had to deal with, and were aston- 
ished to behold the whole valley suddenly swarming with 
horsemen, galloping to the field of action. They withdrew 
into their fort, which was completely hid from sight in the 
dark and tangled wood. Most of their women and children 
had retreated to the mountains. The trappers now sallied 
forth and approached the swamp, firing into the thickets at 
random ; the Blackfeet had a better sight at their adversaries, 
who were in the open field, and a half-breed was wounded in 
the shoulder. 

When Captain Sublette arrived, he urged to penetrate the 
swamp and storm the fort, but all hung back in awe of the 
dismal horrors of the place, and the danger of attacking such 
desperadoes in their savage den. The very Indian allies, 
though accustomed to bush-fighting, regarded it as almost 
impenetrable, and full of frightful danger. Sublette was not 
to be turned from his purpose, but offered to lead the way into 
the swamp. Campbell stepped forward to accompany him. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 57 

Before entering the perilous wood, Sublette took his brothers 
aside, and told them that in case he fell, Campbell, who knew 
his will, was to be his executor. This done, he grasped his rifle 
and pushed into the thickets, followed by Campbell. Sinclair, 
the partisan from Arkansas, was at the edge of the wood with 
his brother and a few of his men. Excited by the gallant ex- 
ample of the two friends, he pressed forward to share their 
dangers. 

The swamp was produced by the labors of the beaver, which, 
by damming up a stream, had inundated a portion of the val- 
ley. The place was all overgrown with woods and thickets, 
so closely matted and entangled that it was impossible to see 
ten paces ahead, and the three associates in peril had to crawl 
along one after another, making their way by putting the 
branches and vines aside ; but doing it with caution, lest they 
should attract the eye of some lurking marksman. They took 
the lead by turns, each advancing about twenty yards at a 
time, and now and then hallooing to their men to follow. 
Some of the latter gradually entered the swamp, and followed 
a little distance in their rear. 

They had now reached a more open part of the wood, and 
had glimpses of the rude fortress from between the trees. It 
was a mere breastwork, as we have said, of logs and branches, 
with blankets, buffalo robes, and the leathern covers of lodges 
extended round the top as a screen. The movements of the 
leaders, as they groped their way, had been descried by the 
sharp-sighted enemy. As Sinclair, who was in the advance, 
was putting some branches aside, he was shot through the 
body. He fell on the spot. "Take me to my brother," said 
he to Campbell. The latter gave him in charge to some of the 
men, who conveyed him out of the swamp. 

Sublette now took the advance. As he was reconnoitring 
the fort, he perceived an Indian peeping through an aperture. 
In an instant his rifle was levelled and discharged, and the ball 
struck the savage in the eye. While he was reloading, he 
called to Campbell, and pointed out to him the hole; " Watch 
that place," said he, "and you will soon have a fair chance for 
a shot." Scarce had he uttered the words, when a ball struck 
him in the shoulder, and almost wheeled him round. His first 
thought was to take hold of his arm with his other hand, and 
move it up and down. He ascertained, to his satisfaction, 
that the bone was not broken. The next moment he was so 
faint that he could not stand. Campbell took him in his arms 



58 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

and carried him out of the thicket. The same shot that struck 
Sublette wounded another man in the head. 

A brisk fire was now opened by the mountaineers from the 
wood, answered occasionally from the fort. Unluckily, the 
trappers and their allies, in searching for the fort, had got 
scattered so that Wyeth and a number of Nez Perces ap- 
proached the fort on the northwest side, while others did the 
same on the opposite quarter. A cross-fire thus took place 
which occasionally did mischief to friends as well as foes. An 
Indian was shot down close to Wyeth, by a ball which, he was 
convinced, had been sped from the rifle of a trapper on the 
other side of the fort. 

The number of whites and their Indian allies had by this 
time so much increased by arrivals from the rendezvous, that 
the Blackfeet were completely overmatched. They kept dog- 
gedly in their fort, however, making no offer of surrender. 
An occasional firing into the breastwork was kept up during 
the day. Now and then one of the Indian allies, in bravado, 
would rush up to the fort, fire over the ramparts, tear off a 
buffalo robe or a scarlet blanket, and return with it in triumph 
to his comrades. Most of the savage garrison that fell, how- 
ever, were killed in the first part of the attack. 

At one time it was resolved to set fire to the fort ; and the 
squaws belonging to the allies were employed to collect com- 
bustibles. This, however, was abandoned; the Nez Perces 
being unwilling to destroy the robes and blankets, and other 
spoils of the enemy, which they felt sure would fall into their 
hands. 

The Indians, when fighting, are prone to taunt and revile 
each other. During one of the pauses of the battle the voice 
of the Blackfeet chief was heard. 

" So long," said he, "as we had powder and ball, we fought 
you in the open field: when those were spent, we .retreated 
here to die with our women and children. You may burn us 
in our fort ; but, stay by our ashes, and you who are so hungry 
for fighting will soon have enough. There are four hundred 
lodges of our brethren at hand. They will soon be here— their 
arms are strong — their hearts are big — they will avenge us !" 

This speech was translated two or three times by Nez Perce 
and Creole interpreters. By the time it was rendered into 
English, the chief was made to say that four hundred lodges 
of his tribe were attacking the encampment at the other end 
of the valley. Every one now was for hurrying to the de- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 59 

fence of the rendezvous. A party was left to keep watch upon 
the fort ; the rest galloped off to the camp. As night came on, 
the trappers drew out of the swamp, and remained about the 
skirts of the wood. By morning, their companions returned 
from the rendezvous, with the report that all was safe. As 
the day opened, they ventured within the swamp and ap- 
proached the fort. All was silent. They advanced up to it 
without opposition. They entered : it had been abandoned in 
the night, and the Blackfeet had effected their retreat, carry- 
ing off their wounded on litters made of branches, leaving 
bloody traces on the herbage. The bodies of ten Indians were 
found within the fort ; among them the one shot in the eye by 
Sublette. The Blackfeet afterward reported that they had lost 
twenty-six warriors in this battle. Thirty -two horses were 
likewise found killed; among them were some of those re- 
cently carried off from Sublette's party, in the night; which 
showed that these were the very savages that had attacked 
him. They proved to be an advance party of the main body 
of Blackfeet, which had been upon the trail of Sublette's party. 
Five white men and one half-breed were killed, and several 
wounded. Seven of the Nez Perces were also killed, and six 
wounded. They had an old chief who was reputed as invul- 
nerable. In the course of the action he was hit by a spent 
ball, and threw up blood; but his skin was unbroken. His 
people were now fully convinced that he was proof against 
powder and ball. 

A striking circumstance is related as having occurred the 
morning after the battle. As some of the trappers and their 
Indian allies were approaching the fort, through the woods, 
they beheld an Indian woman, of noble form and features, 
leaning against a tree. Their surprise at her lingering here 
'alone, to fall into the hands of her enemies, was dispelled, 
when they saw the corpse of a warrior at her feet. Either 
she was so lost in grief as not to perceive their approach; or a 
proud spirit kept her silent and motionless. The Indians set 
up a yell, on discovering her, and before the trappers could in- 
terfere, her mangled body fell upon the corpse which she had 
refused to abandon. We have heard this anecdote discredited 
by one of the leaders who had been in the battle : but the fact 
may have taken place without his seeing it, and been con- 
cealed from him. It is an instance of female devotion, even to 
the death, which we are well disposed to believe and to record. 

After the battle, the brigade of Milton Sublette, together 



60 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

with the free trappers, and Wyeth's New England band, re- 
mained some days at the rendezvous, to see if the main body 
of Blackf eet intended to make an attack ; nothing of the kind 
occurring, they once more put themselves in motion, and pro- 
ceeded on their route toward the southwest. 

Captain Sublette having distributed his supplies, had in- 
tended -to set off on his return to St. Louis, taking with him 
the peltries collected from the trappers and Indians. His 
wound, however, obliged him to postpone his departure. Sev- 
eral who were to have accompanied him became impatient 
of this delay. Among these was a young Bostonian, Mr. 
Joseph More, one of the followers of Mr. Wyeth, who had seen 
enough of mountain life and savage warfare, and was eager to 
return to the abodes of civilization. He and six others, among 
whom were a Mr. Foy, of Mississippi, Mr. Alfred K. Stephens, 
of St. Louis, and two grandsons of the celebrated Daniel 
Boone, set out together, in advance of Sublette's party, think- 
ing they would make their own way through the mountains. 

It was just five days after the battle of the swamp, that 
these seven companions were making their way through Jack- 
son's Hole, a valley not far from the three Tetons, when, as 
they were descending a hill, a party of Blackfeet that lay in 
ambush started up with terrific yells. The horse of the young 
Bostonian, who was in front, wheeled round with affright, and 
threw his unskilful rider. The young man scrambled up the 
side of the hill, but, unaccustomed to such wild scenes, lost 
his presence of mind, and stood, as if paralyzed, on the edge 
of a bank, until the Blackfeet came up and slew him on the 
spot. His comrades had fled on the first alarm; but two of 
them, Foy and Stephens, seeing his danger paused when they 
got half way up the hill, turned back, dismounted, and has- 
tened to his assistance. Foy was instantly killed. Stephens 
was severely wounded, but escaped to die five days afterward. 
The survivors returned to the camp of Captain Sublette, brings 
ing tidings of this new disaster. That hardy leader, as soon as 
he could bear the journey, set out on his return to St. Louis, 
accompanied by Campbell. As they had a number of pack- 
horses richly laden with peltries to convoy, they chose a dif- 
ferent route through the mountains, out of the way, as they 
hoped, of the lurking bands of Blackfeet. They succeeded in 
making the frontier in safety. We remember to have seen 
them with their band, about two or three months afterward, 
passing through a skirt of woodland in the upper part of Mis- 



■■ 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 61 

souri. Their long cavalcade stretched in single file for nearly 
half a mile. Sublette still wore his arm in a sling. The moun- 
taineers in their rude hunting dresses, armed with rifles and 
roughly mounted, and leading their pack-horses down a hill of 
the forest, looked like banditti returning with plunder. On 
the top of some of the packs were perched several half-breed 
children, perfect little imps, with wild black eyes glaring from 
among elf locks. These, I was told, were children of the 
trappers; pledges of love from their squaw spouses in the 
wilderness. 



CHAPTER VII. 

RETREAT OF THE BLACKFEET — FONTENELLE'S CAMP IN DANGER 
—CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE AND THE BLACKFEET— FREE TRAPPERS 
— THEIR CHARACTER, HABITS, DRESS, EQUIPMENTS, HORSES — 
GAME FELLOWS OF THE MOUNTAINS — THEIR VISIT TO THE 
CAMP— GOOD FELLOWSHIP AND GOOD CHEER — A CAROUSE — A 
SWAGGER, A BRAWL, AND A RECONCILIATION. 

The Blackfeet warriors, when they effected their midnight 
retreat from their wild fastness in Pierre's Hole, fell back into 
the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee, or Green River, where they 
joined the main body of their band. The whole force 
amounted to several hundred fighting men, gloomy and exas- 
perated by their late disaster. They had with them their 
wives and children, which incapacitated them from any bold 
and extensive enterprise of a warlike nature; but when, in the 
course of their wanderings, they came in sight of the encamp- 
ment of Fontenelle.- who had moved some distance up Green 
River valley in search of the free trappers, they put up tre- 
mendous war-cries, and advanced fiercely as if to attack it. 
Second thoughts caused them to moderate their fury. They 
recollected the severe lesson just received, and could not but 
remark the strength of Fontenelle's position ; which had been 
chosen with great judgment. A formal talk ensued. The 
Blackfeet said nothing of the late battle, of which Fontenelle 
had as yet received no accounts ; the latter, however, knew the 
hostile and perfidious nature of these savages, and took care to 
inform them of the encampment of Captain Bonneville, that 
they might know there were more white men in the neighbor- 
hood. 



62 AD VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

The conference ended, Fontenelle sent a Delaware Indian of 
his party to conduct fifteen of the Blackf eet to the camp of 
Captain Bonneville. There were at that time two Crow In- 
dians in the captain's camp who had recently arrived there* 
They looked with dismay upon this deputation from their im- 
placable enemies, and gave the captain a terrible character of 
them, assuring him that the best thing he could possibly do 
was to put those Blackfeet deputies to death on the spot. The 
captain, however, who had heard nothing of the conflict at 
Pierre's Hole, declined all compliance with this sage counsel. 
He treated the grim warriors with his usual urbanity. They 
passed some little time at the camp ; saw, no doubt, that every- 
thing was conducted with military skill and vigilance ; and 
that such an enemy was not to be easily surprised, nor to be 
molested with impunity, and then departed, to report all that 
they had seen to their comrades. 

The two scouts which Captain Bonneville had sent out to 
seek for the band of free trappers, expected by Fontenelle, and 
to invite them to his camp, had been successful in their search, 
and on the 12th of August those worthies made their appear- 
ance. 

To explain the meaning of the appellation free trapper it is 
necessary to state the terms on which the men enlist in the 
service of the fur companies. Some have regular wages and 
are furnished with weapons, horses, traps, and other requisites. 
These are under command, and bound to do every duty re- 
quired of them connected with the service ; such as hunting, 
trapping, loading and unloading the horses, mounting guard ; 
and, in short, all the drudgery of the camp. These are the 
hired trappers. 

The free trappers are a more independent class ; and in de- 
scribing them we shall do little more than transcribe the gra- 
phic description of them by Captain Bonneville. ' ' They come 
and go," says he, " when and where they please; provide their 
own horses, arms, and other equipments; trap and trade on 
their own account, and dispose of their skins and peltries to 
the highest bidder. Sometimes, in a dangerous hunting 
ground, they attach themselves to the camp of some trader 
for protection. Here they come under some restrictions ; they 
have to conform to the ordinary rules for trapping, and to sub- 
mit to such restraints and to take part in such general duties 
as are established for the good order and safety of the camp. 
In return for this protection, and for their camp keeping, they 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 63 

are bound to dispose of all the beaver they take to the trader 
who commands the camp, at a certain rate per skin ; or, should 
they prefer seeking a market elsewhere, they are to make him 
an allowance of from thirty to forty dollars for the whole 
hunt." 

There is an inferior order who, either from prudence or 
poverty, come to these dangerous hunting grounds without 
horses or accoutrements, and are furnished by the traders, 
These, like the hired trappers, are bound to exert themselves 
to the utmost in taking beaver, which, without skinning, they 
render in at the trader's lodge, where a stipulated price for 
each is placed to their credit. These, though generally in- 
cluded in the generic name of free trappers, have the more 
specific title of skin trappers. 

The wandering whites who mingle for any length of time 
with the savages have invariably a proneness to adopt savage 
habitudes ; but none more so than the free trappers. It is a 
matter of vanity and ambition with them to discard every- 
thing that may bear the stamp of civilized life, and to adopt 
the manners, habits, dress, gesture, and even walk of the In- 
dian. You cannot pay a free trapper a greater compliment 
than to persuade him you have mistaken him for an Indian 
brave; and in truth the counterfeit is complete. His hair, 
suffered to attain to a great length, is carefully combed out, 
and either left to fall carelessly over his shoulders, or plaited 
neatly and tied up in otter skins of parti-colored ribbons. A 
hunting-shirt of ruffled calico of bright dyes, or of ornamented 
leather, falls to his knee: below which, curiously fashioned 
leggins, ornamented with strings, fringes, and a profusion of 
hawks' bells, reach to a costly pair of moccasons of the finest 
Indian fabric, richly embroidered with beads. A blanket of 
scarlet, or some other bright color, hangs from his shoulders, 
and is girt round his waist with a red sash, in which he be- 
stows his pistols, knife, and the stem of his Indian pipe ; pre- 
parations either for peace or war. His gun is lavishly deco- 
rated with brass tacks and vermilion, and provided with a 
fringed cover, occasionally of buckskin, ornamented here and 
there with a feather. His horse, the noble minister to the 
pride, pleasure, and profit of the mountaineer, is selected for 
his speed and spirit and prancing gait, and holds a place in his 
estimation second only to himself. He shares largely of his 
bounty, and of his pride and pomp of trapping. He is ca- 
parisoned in the most dashing and fantastic style ; the bridles 



64 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

and crupper are weightily embossed with beads and cockades, 
and head, mane and tail are interwoven with abundance of 
eagles' plumes which flutter in the wind. To complete this 
grotesque equipment, the proud animal is bestreaked and be- 
spotted with vermilion, or with white clay, whichever presents 
the most glaring contrast to his real color. 

Such is the account given by Captain Bonneville of these 
rangers of the wilderness, and their appearance at the camp 
was strikingly characteristic. They came dashing forward at 
full speed, firing their fusees and yelling in Indian style. Their 
dark sunburned faces, and long flowing hair, their leggins, 
flags, moccasons, and richly-dyed blankets, and their painted 
horses gaudily caparisoned, gave them so much the air and 
appearance of Indians that it was difficult to persuade one's 
self that they were white men, and had been brought up in 
civilized life. 

Captain Bonneville, who was delighted with the game look 
of these cavaliers of the mountains, welcomed them heartily to 
his camp, and ordered a free allowance of grog to regale them, 
which soon put them in the most braggart spirits. They pro- 
nounced the captain the finest fellow in the world, and his 
men all bons gargons, jovial lads, and swore they would pass 
the day with them. They did so ; and a day it was, of boast, 
and swagger, and rodomontade. The prime bullies and braves 
among the free trappers had each his circle of novices, from 
among the captain's band ; mere greenhorns, men unused to 
Indian life; mangeurs de lard, or pork-eaters; as such new- 
comers are superciliously called by the veterans of the wilder- 
ness. These he would astonish and delight by the hour, with 
prodigious tales of his doings among the Indians ; and of the 
wonders he had seen, and the wonders he had performed, in 
his adventurous peregrinations among the mountains. 

In the evening, the free trappers drew off, and returned to the 
camp of Fontenelle, highly delighted with their visit, and with 
their new acquaintances, and promising to return the follow- 
ing day. They kept their word; day after day their visits 
were repeated; they became "hail fellow well met" with 
Captain Bonneville's men; treat after treat succeeded, until 
both parties got most potently convinced, or rather con- 
founded, by liquor. Now came on confusion and uproar. The 
free trappers were no longer suffered to have all the swagger 
to themselves. The camp bullies and prime trappers of the 
party began to ruffle up and to brag, in turn, of their perils 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 65 

and achievements. Each now tried to out-boast and out- 
talk the other ; a quarrel ensued, as a matter of course, and a 
general fight, according to frontier usage. The two factions 
drew out their forces for a pitched battle. They fell to work 
and belabored each other with might and main; kicks and 
cuffs and dry blows were as well bestowed as they were 
well merited, until, having fought to their hearts' content, 
and been drubbed into a familiar acquaintance with each 
other's prowess and good qualities, they ended the fight by be- 
coming firmer friends than they could have been rendered by 
a year's peaceable companionship. 

While Captain Bonneville amused himself by observing the 
habits and characteristics of this singular class of men; and in- 
dulged them, for the time, in all their vagaries, he profited by 
the opportunity to collect from them information concerning 
the different parts of the country about which they had been 
accustomed to range ; the characters of the tribes, and, in short, 
everything important to his enterprise. He also succeeded in 
securing the services of several to guide and aid him in his 
peregrinations among the mountains, and to trap for him 
during the ensuing season. Having strengthened his party 
with such valuable recruits, he felt in some measure consoled ; 
for the loss of the Delaware Indians, decoyed from him by Mr. 
Fontenelle. 



CHAPTER VHX 

PLANS FOR THE WINTER— SALMON RIVER— ABUNDANCE OF SAL- 
MON WEST OF THE MOUNTAINS— NEW ARRANGEMENTS— CACHES 
^CERRE'S DETACHMENT— MOVEMENTS IN FONTENELLE'S CAMP 
— DEPARTURE OF THE BLACKFEET — THEIR FORTUNES — WIND 
MOUNTAIN STREAMS— BUCKEYE, THE DELAWARE HUNTER, AND 
THE GRIZZLY BEAR— BONES OF MURDERED TRAVELLERS— VISIT 
TO PIERRE'S HOLE — TRACES OF THE BATTLE— NEZ PERCE IN- 
DIANS— ARRIVAL ' AT &AZ2*a?i RIVER. 

The information derived from the free trappers determined 
Captain Bonneville as to his further movements. He learned 
that in the Green Elver valley the winters were severe, the 
snow frequently falling to the depth of several feet ; and that 
there was no good wintering ground in the neighborhood, 



Q6 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

The upper part of Salmon River was represented as far more 
eligible, besides being in an excellent beaver country; and 
thither the captain resolved to bend his course. 

The Salmon River is one of the upper branches of the Oregon 
or Columbia ; and takes its rise from various sources, among a 
group of mountains to the northwest of the Wind River chain. 
It owes its name to the immense shoals of salmon which as- 
cend it in the months of September and October. The salmon 
on the west side of the Rocky Mountains are, like the buffalo 
on the eastern plans, vast migratory supplies for the wants of 
man, that come and go with the seasons. As the buffalo in 
countless throngs find their certain way in the transient pas- 
turage on the prairies, along the fresh banks of the rivers, and 
up every valley and green defile of the mountains, so the sal- 
mon, at their allotted seasons, regulated by a sublime and all- 
seeing Providence, swarm in myriads up the great rivers, and 
find their way up their main branches, and into the minutest 
tributary streams; so as to pervade the great arid plains, and 
to penetrate even among barren mountains. Thus wandering 
tribes are fed in the desert places of the wilderness, where there 
is no herbage for the animals of the chase, and where, but for 
these periodical supplies, it would be impossible for man to 
subsist. 

The rapid currents of the rivers which run into the Pacific 
render the ascent of them very exhausting to the salmon. 
When the fish first run up the rivers, they are fat and in fine 
order. The struggle against impetuous streams and frequent 
rapids gradually renders them thin and weak, and great num- 
bers are seen floating down the rivers on their backs. As the 
season advances and the water becomes chilled, they are flung 
in myriads on the shores, where the wolves and bears assem- 
ble to banquet on them. Often they rot in such quantities 
along the river banks, as to taint the atmosphere. They are 
commonly from two to three feet long. 

Captain Bonneville now made his arrangements for the 
autumn and the winter. The nature of the country through 
which he was about to travel rendered it impossible to proceed 
with wagons. He had more goods and supplies of various 
kinds, also, than were required for present purposes, or than 
could be conveniently transported on horseback ; aided, there^ 
fore, by a few confidential men, he made caches, or secret pits, 
during the night, when all the rest of the camp were asleep, 
and in these deposited the superfluous effects, together with 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 67 

the wagons. All traces of the caches were then carefully 
obliterated. This is a common expedient with the traders and 
trappers of the mountains. Having no established posts and 
magazines, they make these caches or deposits at certain 
points, whither they repair occasionally, for supplies. It is an 
expedient derived from the wandering tribes of Indians. 

Many of the horses were still so weak and lame as to be 
unfit for a long scramble through the mountains. These were 
collected into one cavalcade, and given in charge to an experi- 
enced trapper, of the name of Matthieu. He was to proceed 
westward, with a brigade of trappers, to Bear Eiver ; a stream 
to the west of the Green River or Colorado, where there was 
good pasturage for the horses. In this neighborhood it was 
expected he would meet the Shoshonie villages or bands,* on 
their yearly migrations, with whom he was to trade for peltries 
and provisions. After he had traded with these people, finished 
his trapping, and recruited the strength of the horses, he was 
to proceed to Salmon Eiver, and rejoin Captain Bonneville, 
who intended to fix his quarters there for the winter. 

While these arrangements were in progress in the camp of 
Captain Bonneville, there was a sudden bustle and stir in the 
camp of Fontenelle. One of the partners of the American Fur 
Company had arrived, in all haste, from the rendezvous at 
Pierre's Hole, in quest of the supplies. The competition be- 
tween the two rival companies was just now at its height, and 
prosecuted with unusual zeal. The tramontane concerns o*. 
the Rocky Mountain Fur Company were managed by two 
resident partners, Fitzpatrick and Bridger; those of the 
American Fur Company, by Vanderburgh and Dripps. The 
latter were ignorant of the mountain regions, but trusted to 
make up by vigilance and activity for their want of knowledge 
of the country. 

Fitzpatrick, an experienced trader and trapper, knew the 
evils of competition in the same hunting grounds, and had 
proposed that the two companies should divide the country, so 
as to hunt in different directions: this proposition being re- 
jected, he had exerted himself to get first into the field. His 
exertions, as have already been shown, were effectual. The 

* A village of Indians, in trappers' language, does not always imply a fixed com- 
munity; but often a wandering horde or band. The Shoshonies, like most of the 
mountain tribes, have no settled residences; but are a nomadic people, dwelling in 
tents or lodges, and shifting their encampments from place to place, according as 
fish and game abound. 



— ^^^ 



68 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

early arrival of Sublette, with supplies, had enabled the vari- 
ous brigades of the Rocky Mountain Company to start off to 
their respective hunting grounds. Fitzpatrick himself, with 
his associate, Bridger, had pushed off with a strong party of 
trappers, for a prime beaver country to the north-northwest. 

This had put Vanderburgh upon his mettle. He had has- 
tened on to meet Fontenelle. Finding him at his camp in 
Green Eiver valley, he immediately furnished himself with 
the supplies ; put himself at the head of the free trappers and 
Delawares, and set off with all speed, determined to follow 
hard upon the heels of Fitzpatrick and Bridger. Of the ad- 
ventures of these parties among the mountains, and the dis- 
astrous effects of their competition, we shall have occasion t<? 
treat in a future chapter. 

Fontenelle, having now delivered his supplies and accom- 
plished his errand, struck his tents and set oft en his return to 
the Yellowstone. Captain Bonneville and his band, therefore, 
remained alone in the Green Eiver valley ; and their situation 
might have been perilous, had the Blackf eet band still ling- 
ered in the vicinity. Those marauders, however, had been 
dismayed at finding so many resolute and well-appointed par- 
ties of white men in this neighbc rhood. They had, therefore, 
abandoned this part of the country, passing over the head- 
waters of the Green River, and bending their course toward 
the Yellowstone. Misfortune pursued them. Their route lay 
through the country of their deadly enemies, the Crows. In 
the Wind River valley, which lies east of the mountains, they 
were encountered by a powerful war party of that tribe, and 
completely put to rout. Forty of them were killed, many of 
their women and children captured, and the scattered fugitives 
hunted like wild beasts, until they were completely chased out 
of the Crow country. 

On the 22d of August Captain Bonneville broke up his 
camp, and set out on his route for Salmon River. His bag- 
gage was arranged in packs, three to a mule, or pack-horse ; 
one being disposed on each side of the animal, and one on 
the top ; the three forming a load of from one hundred and 
eighty to two hundred and twenty pounds. This is the trap- 
pers' style of loading their pack-horses. His men, however, 
were inexpert at adjusting the packs, which were prone to get 
loose and slip off, so that it was necessary to keep a rear-guard 
to assist in reloading. A few days' experience, however, 
brought them into proper training. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 69 

Their march lay up the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee, over- 
looked to the right by the lofty peaks of the Wind River 
Mountains. From bright little lakes and fountain-heads of 
this remarkable bed of mountains poured forth the tributary 
streams of the Seeds-ke-dee. Some came rushing down gullies 
and ravines; others tumbling in crystal cascades from in- 
accessible clefts and rocks, and others winding their way in 
rapid and pellucid currents across the valley, to throw them- 
selves into the main river. So transparent were these waters 
that the trout with which they abounded could be seen gliding 
about as if in the air; and their pebbly beds were distinctly 
visible at the depth of many feet. This beautiful and diaph- 
anous quality of the Rocky Mountain streams prevails for a 
long time after they have mingled their waters and swollen 
into important rivers. 

Issuing from the upper part of the valley, Captain Bonne- 
ville continued to the east-northeast, across rough and lofty 
ridges, and deep rocky defiles, extremely fatiguing both to 
man and horse. Among his hunters was a Delaware Indian 
who had remained faithful to him. His name was Buck- 
eye. He had often prided himself on his skill and success 
in coping with the grizzly bear, that terror of the hunters. 
Though crippled in the left arm, he declared he had no hesita- 
tion to close with a wounded bear, and attack him with a 
sword. If armed with a rifle, he was willing to brave the 
animal when in full force and fury. He had twice an oppor- 
tunity of proving his prowess, in the course of this mountair 
journey, and was each time successful. His mode was to seat 
himself upon the ground, with his rifle cocked and resting on 
his lame arm. Thus prepared, he would await the approach 
of the bear with perfect coolness, nor pull trigger until he 
was close at hand. In each instance, he laid the monster dead 
upon the spot. 

A march of three or four days, through savage and lonely 
scenes, brought Captain Bonneville to the fatal defile of Jack- 
son's Hole, where poor More and Foy had been surprised and 
murdered by the Blackfeet. The feelings of the captain were 
shocked at beholding the bones of these unfortunate young 
men bleaching among the rocks ; and he caused them to be 
decently interred. 

On the 3d of September he arrived on the summit of a moun- 
tain which commanded a full view of the eventful valley of 
Pierre's Hole ; whence he could trace the winding of its stream 



70 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

through green meadows and forests of willow and cottonwood, 
and have a prospect, between distant mountains, of the lava 
plains of Snake River, dimly spread forth like a sleeping ocean 
below. 

After enjoying this magnificent prospect, he descended into 
the valley, and visited the scenes of the late desperate conflict. 
There were the remains of the rude fortress in the swamp, 
shattered by rifle shot, and strewed with the mingled bones of 
savages and horses. There was the late populous and noisy 
rendezvous, with the traces of trappers' camps and Indian 
lodges ; but their fires were extinguished, the motley assem- 
blage of trappers and hunters, white traders and Indian 
braves, had all dispersed to different points of the wilder- 
ness, and the valley had relapsed into its pristine solitude 
and silence. 

That night the captain encamped upon the battle ground ; 
the next day he resumed his toilsome peregrinations through 
the mountains. For upward of two weeks he continued his 
painful march ; both men and horses suffering excessively at 
times from hunger and thirst. At length, on the 19th of Sep- 
tember, he reached the upper waters of Salmon River. 

The weather was cold, and there were symptoms of an im- 
pending storm. The night set in, but Buckeye, the Delaware 
Indian, was missing. He had left the party early in the morn- 
ing, to hunt by himself, according to his custom. Fears were 
entertained lest he should lose his way and become bewildered 
in tempestuous weather. These fears increased on the follow- 
ing morning when a violent snow-storm came on, which soon 
covered the earth to the depth of several inches. Captain 
Bonneville immediately encamped, and sent out scouts in 
every direction. After some search Buckeye was discovered, 
quietly seated at a considerable distance in the rear, waiting 
the expected approach of the party, not knowing that they had 
passed, the snow having covered their trail. 

On the ensuing morning they resumed their march at an 
early hour, but had not proceeded far when the hunters, who 
were beating up the country in the advance, came gallop- 
ing back, making signals to encamp, and crying Indians! 
Indians ! 

Captain Bonneville immediately struck into a skirt of 'wood 
and prepared for action. The savages were now seen trooping 
over the hills in great numbers. One of them left the main 
body and came forward singly, making signals of peace. He 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 7J 

announced them as a band of Nez Perces,* or Pierced-nose In- 
dians, friendly to the whites, whereupon an invitation was re- 
turned by Captain Bonneville for them to come and encamp 
with him. They halted for a short time to make their toilet, an 
operation as important with an Indian warrior as with a fash- 
ionable beauty. This done they arranged themselves in 
martial style, the chiefs leading the van, the braves following 
in a long line, painted and decorated, and topped off with flut- 
tering plumes. In this way they advanced, shouting and 
singing, firing off their fusees, and clashing their shields. The 
two parties encamped hard by each other. The Nez Perces 
were on a hunting expedition, but had been almost famished 
on their march. They had no provisions left but a few dried 
salmon; yet, finding the white men equally in want they 
generously offered to share even this meagre pittance, and 
frequently repeated the offer with an earnestness that left no 
doubt of their sincerity. Their generosity won the heart of 
Captain Bonneville, and produced the most cordial good-will 
on the part of his men. For two days that the parties 
remained in company, the most amicable intercourse pre- 
vailed, and they parted the best of friends. Captain Bonne- 
ville detached a few men under Mr. Cerre, an able leader, to 
accompany the Nez Perces on their hunting expedition, and to 
trade with them for meat for the winter's supply. After this, 
he proceeded down the river about five miles below the forks, 
when he came to a halt on the 26th of September, to establish 
his winter quarters. 



CHAPTEE IX. 

HORSES TURNED LOOSE— PREPARATIONS FOR WINTER Q CARTERS 
— HUNGRY TIMES — NEZ PERCES, THEIR HONESTY, PIETY, 
PACIFIC HABITS, RELIGIOUS CEREMONIES— CAPTAIN BONNE- 
VILLE'S CONVERSATIONS WITH THEM— THEIR LOVE OF GAM- 
BLING. 

It was gratifying to Captain Bonneville, after so long and 
toilsome a course of travel, to relieve his poor jaded horses of 

* We should observe that this tribe is universally called by its French 
name, which is pronounced by the trappers, Neper cy. There are two main 
branches of this tribe, the upper Nepercys and the lower Nepercys, as we 
shall show hereafter. 



72 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

the burden^ under which they were almost ready to give out, 
and to behold them rolling upon the grass, and taking a long 
repose after all their sufferings. Indeed, so exhausted were 
they, that those employed under the saddle were no longer 
capable of hunting for the daily subsistence of the camp. 

All hands now set to work to prepare a winter cantonment 
A temporary fortification was thrown up for the protection c 
bhe party; a secure and comfortable pen, into which the hors 
could be driven at night; and huts were built for the recep'.i< 
of the merchandise. 

This done, Captain Bonneville made a distribution of his 
forces ; twenty men were to remain with him in garrison to 
protect the property ; the rest were organized into three bri- 
gades, and sent off in different directions, to subsist them- 
selves by hunting the buffalo, until the snow should become 
too deep. 

Indeed, it would have been impossible to provide for the 
whole party in this neighborhood. It was at the extreme wes- 
tern limit of the buffalo range, and these animals had recently 
been completely hunted out of the neighborhood by the Nez 
Perces, so that, that, although the hunters of the garrison were 
continually on the alert, ranging the country round, they 
brought in scarce game sufficient to keep famine from the 
door. Now and then there was a scanty meal of fish or wild- 
fowl, occasionally an antelope; but frequently the cravings of 
hunger had to be appeased with roots, or the flesh of wolves 
and musk-rats. Rarely could the inmates of the cantonment 
boast of having made a full meal, and never of having where- 
withal for the morrow. In this way they starved along until 
the 8th of October, when they were joined by a party of five 
families of Nez Perces, who in some measure reconciled them 
to the hardships of their situation, by exhibiting a lot still more 
titute. A more forlorn set they had never encountered; 
they had not a morsel of meat or fish ; nor anything to subsist 
on, excepting roots, wild rosebuds, the barks of certain plants, 
and other vegetable productions ; neither had they any weapon 
for hunting or defense, excepting an old spear. Yet the poor 
fellows made no murmur nor complaint; but seemed accus- 
tomed to their hard fare. If they could not teach the white 
men their practical stoicism, they at least made them ac- 
quainted with the edible properties of roots and wild rosebuds, 
and furnished them a supply from their own store. The 
necessities of the camp at length became so urgent that Cap' 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 73 

tain Bonneville determined to dispatch a party to the Horse 
Prairie, a plain to the north of his cantonment, to procure a 
supply of provisions. When the men were about to depart, he 
proposed to the Nez Perces that they, or some of them, should 
join the hunting party. To his surprise they promptly de- 
clined. He inquired the reason for their refusal, seeing that 
they were in nearly as starving situation as his own people. 
They replied that it was a sacred day with them, and the Great 
Spirit would be angry should they devote it to hunting. They 
offered, however, to accompany the party if it would delay its 
departure until the following day; but this the pinching de- 
mands of hunger would not permit, and the detachment pro- 
ceeded. A few days afterward, four of them signified to 
Captain Bonneville that they were about to hunt. iC What!" 
exclaimed he, ' ' without guns or arrows ; and with only one 
old spear? What do you expect to kill?" They smiled among 
themselves, but made no answer. Preparatory to the chase, 
they performed some religious rites, and offered up to the 
Great Spirit a few short prayers for safety and success ; then, 
having received the blessings of their wives, they leaped upon 
their horses and departed, leaving the whole party of Chris- 
tian spectators amazed and rebuked by this lesson of faith and 
dependence on a supreme and benevolent Being. "Accus- 
tomed," adds Captain Bonneville, " as I had heretofore been, 
to find the wretched Indian revelling in blood and stained by 
every vice which can degrade human nature, I could scarcely 
realize the scene vfhich I had witnessed. Wonder at such un- 
affected tenderness and piety, where it was least to have been 
sought, contended in all our bosoms with shame and confusion, 
at receiving such pure and wholesome instructions from crea- 
tures so far below us in the arts and comforts of life." The 
simple prayers of the poor Indians were not unheard. In the 
course of four or five days they returned, laden with meat. 
Captain Bonneville was curious to know how they had 
attained such success with such scanty means. They gave him 
to understand that they had chased the herds of buffalo at full 
speed, until they tired them down, when they easily dispatched 
them with the spear, a,nd made use of the same weapon to flay 
the carcasses. To carry through their lessons to their Chris- 
tian friends, the poor savages were as charitable as they had 
been pious, and generously shared with them the spoils of their 
hunting ; giving them food enough to last for several days. 
A further and more intimate intercourse with this tribe gave 



74 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

Captain Bonneville still greater cause to admire their strong 
devotional feeling. "Simply to call these people religious," 
says he, "would convey but a faint idea of the deep hue of 
piety and devotion which pervades their whole conduct. Their 
honesty is immaculate, and their purity of purpose, and their 
observance of the rites of their religion, are most uniform and 
remarkable. They are, certainly more like a nation of saints 
than a horde of savages." 

In fact, the antibeiligerent policy of this tribe may have 
sprung from the doctrines of Christian charity, for it would 
appear that they had imbibed some notions of the Christian 
faith from Catholic missionaries and traders who had been 
among them. They even had a rude calendar of the fasts and 
festivals of the Romish Church, and some traces of its cere- 
monials. These have become blended with their own wild 
rites, and present a strange medley ; civilized and barbarous. 
On the Sabbath, men, women; and children array themselves 
in their best style, and assemble round a pole erected at the 
head of the camp. Here they go through a wild fantastic 
ceremonial; strongly resembling the religious dance of the 
Shaking Quakers ; but from its enthusiasm, much more strik- 
ing and impressive. During the intervals of the ceremony, 
the principal chiefs, who officiate as priests, instruct them in 
their duties, and exhort them to virtue and good deeds. 

"There is something antique and patriarchal," observes Cap- 
tain Bonneville, "in this union of the offices of leader and 
priest ; as there is in many of their customs and manners, 
which are all strongly imbued with religion." 

The worthy captain, indeed, appears to have been strongly 
interested by this gleam of unlooked-for light amid the dark- 
ness of the wilderness. He exerted himself, during his sojourn 
among this simple and well-disposed people, to inculcate, as far 
as he was able, the gentle and humanizing precepts of the 
Christian faith, and to make them acquainted with the lead- 
ing points of its history ; and it speaks highly for the purity 
and benignity of his heart, that he derived unmixed happine&s 
from the task. 

"Many a time," says he, "was my little lodge thronged, or 
rather piled with hearers, for they lay on the ground, one lean- 
ing over the other, until there was no further room, all listening 
with greedy ears to the wonders which the Great Spirit had 
revealed to the white man. No other subject gave them half 
the satisfaction, or comm^ded half the attention; and but 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 75 

few scenes in my life remain so freshly on my memory, or are 
so pleasurably recalled to my contemplation, as these hours of 
intercourse with a distant and benighted race in the midst of 
the desert." 

The only excesses indulged in by this temperate and exem- 
plary people, appear to be gambling and horseracing. In these 
they engage with an eagerness that amounts to infatuation. 
Knots of gamblers will assemble before one of their lodge fires, 
early in the evening, and remain absorbed in the chances and 
changes of the game until long after dawn of the following 
day. As the night advances, they wax warmer and warmer. 
Bets increase in amount, one loss only serves to lead to a greater, 
until in the course of a single night's gambling, the richest 
chief may become the poorest varlet in the camp. 



CHAPTEK X. 

BLACKFEET IN THE HORSE PRAIRIE— SEARCH AFTER THE HUNT- 
ERS — DIFFICULTIES AND DANGERS — A CARD PARTY IN THE WIL- 
DERNESS—THE CARD PARTY INTERRUPTED— " OLD SLEDGE" A 
LOSING GAME— VISITORS TO THE CAMP— IROQUOIS HUNTERS— 
HANGING-EARED INDIANS. 

On the 12th of October, two young Indians of the Nez Perce 
tribe arrived at Captain Bonneville's encampment. They were 
on their way homeward, but had been obliged to swerve from 
their ordinary route through the mountains, by deep snows. 
Their new route took them through the Horse Prairie. In 
traversing it, they had been attracted by the distant smoke of 
a camp fire, and on stealing near to reconnoitre, had discovered 
a war party of Blackfeet. They had several horses with them ; 
and, as they generally go on foot on warlike excursions, it was 
concluded that these horses had been captured in the course of 
their maraudings. 

This intelligence awakened solicitude on the mind of Captain 
Bonneville for the party of hunters whom he had sent to that 
neighborhood ; and the Nez Perzes, when informed of the cir- 
cumstance, shook their heads, and declared their belief that 
the horses they had seen had been stolen from that very party. 

Anxious for information on the subject, Captain Bonne- 
ville dispatched two hunters to beat up the country in that 



76 ADVENTURES OF CAPTaIn BONNEVILLE. 

direction. They searched in vain; not a trace of the men 
could be found ; but they got into a region destitute of game, 
where they were well-nigh famished. At one time they were 
three entire days without a mouthful of food ; at length they 
beheld a buffalo grazing at the foot of the mountain. After 
manoeuvring so as to get within shot, they fired, but merely 
wounded him. He took to flight, and they followed him ovei 
hill and dale, with the eagerness and perseverance of starving 
men. A more lucky shot brought him to the ground. Stan- 
field sprang upon him, plunged his knife into his throat, and 
allayed his raging hunger by drinking his blood. A fire was 
instantly kindled beside the carcass, when the two hunters 
cooked, and ate again and again, until, perfectly gorged, they 
sank to sleep before their hunting fire. On the following 
morning they rose early, made another hearty meal, then 
loading themselves with buffalo meat, set out on their return 
to the camp, to report the fruitlessness of their mission. 

At length, after six weeks' absence, the hunters made their 
appearance, and were received with joy proportioned to the 
anxiety that had been felt on their account. They had hunted 
with success on the prairie, but, while busy drying buffalo 
meat, were joined by a few panic-stricken Flatheads, who 
informed them that a powerful band of Blackfeet were at 
hand. The hunters immediately abandoned the dangerous 
hunting ground, and accompanied the Flatheads to their 
village. Here they found Mr. Cerre, and the detachment of 
hunters sent with him to accompany the hunting party of the 
Nez Perces. 

After remaining some time at the village, until they sup- 
posed the Blackfeet to have left the neighborhood, they set off 
with some of Mr. Cerre's men for the cantonment at Salmon 
River, where they arrived without accident. They informed 
Captain Bonneville, however, that not far from his quarters 
they had found a wallet of fresh meat and a cord, which they 
supposed had been left by some prowling Blackfeet. A few 
days afterward Mr. Cerre, with the remainder of his men, 
likewise arrived at the cantonment. 

Mr. Walker, one of his subleaders, who had gone with a 
band of twenty hunters to range the country just beyond the 
Horse Prairie, had likewise his share of adventures with the 
all-pervading Blackfeet. At one of his encampments the 
guard stationed to keep watch round the camp grew weary of 
their duty, and feeling a little too secure, and too much at 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 77 

tome on these prairies, retired to a small grove of willows to 
amuse themselves with a social game of cards called "old 
sledge," which is as popular among these trampers of the 
prairies as whist or ecarte among the polite circles of the 
cities. From the midst of their sport they were suddenly 
roused by a discharge of firearms and a shrill war-whoop. 
Starting on their feet, and snatching up their rifles, they 
beheld in dismay their horses and mules already in possession 
of the enemy, who had stolen upon the camp unperceived, 
while they were spell-bound by the magic of old sledge. The 
Indians sprang upon the animals barebacked, and endeavored 
to urge them off under a galling fire that did some execution. 
The mules, however, confounded by the hurly-burly and dis- 
liking their new riders kicked up their heels and dismounted 
half of them, in spite of their horsemanship. This threw the 
rest into confusion ; they endeavored to protect their unhorsed 
comrades from the furious assaults of the whites ; but, after a 
scene of "confusion worse confounded," horses and mules 
were abandoned, and the Indians betook themselves to the 
bushes. Here they quickly scratched holes in the earth about 
two feet deep, in which they prostrated themselves, and while 
thus screened from the shots of the white men, were enabled 
to make such use of their bows and arrows and fusees, as to 
repulse their assailants and to effect their retreat. This 
adventure threw a temporary stigma upon the game of ; ' olc 
sledge." 

In the course of the autumn, four Iroquois hunters, drivei 
by the snow from their hunting grounds, made their appear 
ance at the cantonment. They were kindly welcomed, and 
during their sojourn made themselves useful in a variety of 
ways, being excellent trappers and first-rate woodsmen. They 
were of the remnants of a party of Iroquois hunters that camo 
from Canada into these mountain regions many years previ- 
ously, in the employ of the Hudson's Bay Company. They 
were led by a brave chieftain, named Pierre, who fell by the 
hands of the Blackf eet, and gave his name to the fated valley 
of Pierre's Hole. This branch of the Iroquois tribe has ever 
since remained among these mountains, at mortal enmity 
with the Blackf eet, and have lost many of then* prime hunters 
in their feuds with that ferocious race. Some of them fell in 
with General Ashley, in the course of one of his gallant excur- 
sions into the wilderness, and have continued ever since in the 
employ of the company 



78 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

Among the motley visitors to the winter quarters of Captain 
Bonneville was a party of Pends Oreilles (or Hanging-ears) 
and their chief. These Indians have a strong resemblance, in 
character and customs, to the Nez Perces. They amount to 
about three hundred lodges, are well armed, and possess great 
numbers of horses. During the spring, summer, and autumn, 
they hunt the buffalo about the head- waters of the Missouri, 
Henry's Fork of the Snake Eiver, and the northern branches 
of Salmon River. Their winter quarters are upon the Racine 
Amere, where they subsist upon roots and dried buffalo meat. 
Upon this river the Hudson's Bay Company have established 
a trading post, where the Pends Oreilles and the Flatheads 
bring their peltries to exchange for arms, clothing, and 
trinkets. 

This tribe, like the Nez Perez, evince strong and peculiar 
feelings of natural piety. Their religion is not a mere 
superstitious fear, like that of most savages ; they evince ab- 
stract notions of morality ; a deep reverence for an overruling 
spirit, and a respect for the rights of their fellowmen. In one 
respect their religion partakes of the pacific doctrines of the 
Quakers. They hold that the Great Spirit is displeased with 
all nations who wantonly engage in war ; they abstain, there- 
fore, from all aggressive hostilities. But though thus un- 
offending in their policy, they are called upon continually to 
wage defensive warfare; especially with the Blackf eet ; with 
whom, in the course of their hunting expeditions, they come 
in frequent collision and have desperate battles. Their con- 
duct as warriors is without fear or reproach, and they can 
never be driven to abandon their hunting grounds. 

Like most savages they are firm believers in dreams, *and in 
the power and efficacy of charms and amulets, or medicines as 
they term them. Some of their braves, also, who have had 
numerous hairbreadth 'scapes, like the old Nez Perce chief in 
the battle of Pierre's Hole, are believed to wear a charmed 
life, and to be bullet-proof. Of these gifted beings marvellous 
anecdotes are related, which are most potently believed by 
their fellow savages, and sometimes almost credited by the 
white hunters. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 79 



CHAPTER XI. 

RIVAL TRAPPING PARTIES— MANOEUVRING — A DESPERATE GAME — 
VANDERBURGH AND THE BLACKFEET— DESERTED CAMP FIRE— 
A DARK DEFILE — AN INDIAN AMBUSH— A FIERCE MELEE — FATAL 
CONSEQUENCES— FITZPATRICK AND BRIDGER— TRAPPERS' PRE- 
CAUTIONS—MEETING WITH THE BLACKFEET— MORE FIGHTING — 
ANECDOTE OF A YOUNG MEXICAN AND AN INDIAN GIRL. 

While Captain Bonneville and his men are sojourning 
among the Nez Perces, on Salmon River, we will inquire after 
the fortunes of those doughty rivals of the Rocky Mountains 
and American Fur Companies, who started off for the trap- 
ping grounds to the north-northwest. 

Fitzpatrick and Bridger, of the former company, as we have 
already shown, having received their supplies, had taken the 
lead, and hoped to have the first sweep of the hunting grounds. 
Vanderburgh and Dripps, however, the two resident partners 
of the opposite company, by extraordinary exertions were en- 
abled soon to put themselves upon their traces, and pressed 
forward with such speed as to overtake them just as they had 
reached the heart of the beaver country. In fact, being ignor- 
ant of the best trapping grounds, it was their object to follow 
on, and profit by the superior knowledge of the other party. 

Nothing could equal the chagrin of Fitzpatrick and Bridger 
at being dogged by their inexperienced rivals, especially after 
their offer to divide the country with them. They tried in 
every way to blind and baffle them ; to steal a march upon 
them, or lead them on a wrong scent ; but all in vain. Van* 
derburgh made up by activity and intelligence for his ignor* 
ance of the country ; was always wary, always on the alert 5 
discovered every movement of his rivals, however secret, and 
was not to be eluded or misled. 

Fitzpatrick and his colleague now lost all patience; since 
the others persisted in following them, they determined to give 
them an unprofitable chase, and to sacrifice the hunting season 
rather than share the products with their rivals. They ac- 
cordingly took up their line of march down the course of the 
Missouri, keeping the main Blackf oot trail, and tramping dog< 



80 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

gedly forward, without stopping to set a single trap. The 
others beat the hoof after thern for some time, but by degrees 
began to perceive that they were on a wild-goose chase, and 
getting into. a country perfectly barren to the trapper. They 
now came to a halt, and bethought themselves how to make 
up for lost time, and improve the remainder of the season. It 
was thought best to divide their forces and try different trap- 
ping grounds. While Dripps went in one direction, Vander- 
burgh, with about fifty men, proceeded in another. The latter, 
in his headlong march had got into the very heart of the Black- 
foot country, yet seems to have been unconscious of his danger. 
As his scouts were out one day, they came upon the traces of 
a recent band of savages. There were the deserted fires still 
smoking, surrounded by the carcasses of buffaloes just killed. 
It was evident a party of Blackfeet had been frightened from 
their hunting camp, and had retreated, probably to seek rein- 
forcements. The scouts hastened back to the camp, and told 
Vanderburgh what they had seen. He made light of the 
alarm, and, taking nine men with him, galloped off to recon- 
noitre for himself. He found the deserted hunting camp just 
as they had represented it ; there lay the carcasses of buffaloes, 
partly dismembered; there were the smouldering fires, still 
sending up their wreaths of smoke ; everything bore traces of 
recent and hasty retreat ; and gave reason to believe that the 
savages were still lurking in the neighborhood. With heed- 
less daring, Vanderburgh put himself upon their trail, to trace 
them to their place of concealment. It led him over prairies, 
and through skirts of woodland, until it entered a dark and 
dangerous ravine. Vanderburgh pushed in, without hesita- 
tion, followed by his little band. They soon found themselves 
in a gloomy dell, between steep banks overhung with trees, 
where the profound silence was only broken by the tramp of 
their own horses. 

Suddenly the horrid war-whoop burst on their ears, mingled 
with the sharp report of rifles, and a legion of savages sprang 
from their concealments, yelling, and shaking their buffalo 
robes to frighten the horses. Vanderburgh's horse fell, mor- 
tally wounded by the first discharge. In his fall he pinned his 
rider to the ground, who called in vain upon his men to assist 
in extricating him. One was shot down scalped a few paces 
distant ; most of the others were severely wounded, and sought 
their safety in flight. The savages approached to dispatch 
the unfortunate leader, as he lay struggling beneath his horse. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 81 

He had still his rifle in his hand and his pistols in his belt. 
The first savage that advanced received the contents of the 
rifle in his breast, and fell dead upon the spot ; but before Van- 
derburgh could draw a pistol, a blow from a tomahawk laid 
him prostrate, and he was dispatched by repeated wounds. 

Such was the fate of Major Henry Vanderburgh, one of the 
best and worthiest leaders of the American Fur Company, 
who by his manly bearing and dauntless courage is said to 
have made himself universally popular among the bold-hearted 
rovers of the wilderness. 

Those of the little band who escaped fled in consternation to 
the camp, and spread direful reports of the force and ferocity 
of the enemy. The party, being without a head, were in com- 
plete confusion and dismay, and made a precipitate retreat, 
without attempting to recover the remains of their butchered 
leader. They made no halt until they reached the encamp- 
ment of the Pends Oreilles, or Hanging-ears, where they of- 
fered a reward for the recovery of the body, but without suc- 
cess ; it never could be found. 

In the meantime Fitzpatrick and Bridger, of the Rocky 
Mountain Company, fared but little better than their rivals. 
In their eagerness to mislead them they betrayed themselves 
into danger, and got into a region infested with the Blackf eet. 
They soon found that foes were on the watch for them ; but 
they were experienced in Indian warfare, and not to be sur- 
prised at night, nor drawn into an ambush in the daytime. 
As the evening advanced, the horses were all brought in and 
picketed, and a guard was stationed round the camp. At the 
earliest streak of day one of the leaders would mount his 
horse, and gallop off full speed for about half a mile; then 
look round for Indian trails, tc ascertain whether there had 
been any lurkers round the camp ; returning slowly, he would 
reconnoitre every ravine and thicket where there might be an 
ambush. This done, he would gallop off in an opposite direc- 
tion and repeat the same scrutiny. Finding all things safe, 
the horses would be turned loose to graze, but always under 
the eye of a guard. 

A caution equally vigilant was observed in the march, on 
approaching any defile or place where an enemy might lie in 
wait ; and scouts were always kept in the advance, or along 
the ridges and rising grounds on the flanks. 

At length, one day, a large band of Blackfeet appeared in 
the open field, but in the vicinity of rocks and cliffs. They 



82 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

kept at a wary distance, but made friendly signs. The trap< 
pers replied in the same way, hut likewise kept aloof. A 
small party of Indians now advanced, bearing the pipe of 
peace ; they were met by an equal number of white men, and 
they formed a group midway between the two bands, where 
the pipe was circulated from hand to hand, and smoked with 
all due ceremony. An instance of natural affection took place 
at this pacific meeting. Among the free trappers in the Rocky 
Mountain band was a spirited young Mexican named Loretto, 
who, in the course of his wanderings, had ransomed a beauti- 
ful Blackfoot girl from a band of Crows by whom she had 
been captured. He made her his wife, after the Indian style, 
and she had followed his fortunes ever since, with the most 
devoted affection. 

Among the Blackfeet warriors who advanced with the calu- 
met of peace she recognized a brother. Leaving her infant 
with Loretto she rushed forward and threw herself upon her 
brother's neck, who clasped his long-lost sister to his heart 
with a warmth of affection but little compatible with the 
reputed stoicism of the savage. 

While this scene was taking place, Bridger left the main body 
of trappers and rode slowly toward the group of smokers, with 
his rifle resting across the pommel of his saddle. The chief of 
the Blackfeet stepped forward to meet him. From some un- 
fortunate feeling of distrust Bridger cocked his rifle just as the 
chief was extending his hand in friendship. The quick ear of 
the savage caught the click of the lock; in a twinkling he 
grasped the barrel, forced the muzzle downward, and the 
contents were discharged into the earth at his feet. His next 
movement was to wrest the weapon from the hand of Bridger 
and fell him with it to the earth. He might have found this 
no easy task had not the unfortunate leader received two 
arrows in his back during the struggle. 

The chief now sprang into the vacant saddle and galloped off 
to his band. A wild hurry -skurry scene ensued ; each party 
took to the banks, the rocks and trees, to gain favorable posi- 
tions, and an irregular firing was kept up on either side, with- 
out much effect. The Indian girl had been hurried off by 
her people at the outbreak of the affray. She would have 
returned, through the dangers of the fight, to her husband and 
her child, but was prevented by her brother. The young 
Mexican saw her struggles and her agony, and heard her 
piercing cries. V/ith a generous impulse he caught up the 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 83 

child in his arms, rushed forward, regardless of Indian shaft 
or rifle, and placed it in safety upon her bosom. Even the 
savage heart of the Blackf oot chief was reached by this noble 
deed. He pronounced Loretto a madman for his temerity, but 
bade him depart in peace. The young Mexican hesitated ; he 
urged to have his wife restored to him, but her brother inter- 
fered, and the countenance of the chief grew dark. The girl, 
he said, belonged to his tribe— she must remain with her peo- 
ple. Loretto would still have lingered, but his wife implored 
him to depart, lest his life should be endangered. It was with 
the greatest reluctance that he returned to his companions. 

The approach of night put an end to the skirmishing fire of 
the adverse parties, and the savages drew off without renew- 
ing their hostilities. We cannot but remark that both in this 
affair and that of Pierre's Hole the affray commenced by a 
hostile act on the part of white men at the moment when the 
Indian warrior was extending the hand of amity. In neither 
instance, as far as circumstances have been stated to us by 
different persons, do we see any reason to suspect the savage 
chiefs of perfidy in their overtures of friendship. They ad- 
vanced in the confiding way usual among Indians when they 
bear the pipe of peace, and consider themselves sacred from 
attack. If we violate the sanctity of this ceremonial, by any 
hostile movement on our part, it is we who incur the charge of 
faithlessness ; and we doubt not that in both these instances 
the white men have been considered by the Blackf eet as the 
aggressors, and have, in consequence, been held up as men not 
to be trusted. 

A word to conclude the romantic incident of Loretto and his 
Indian bride. A few months subsequent to the event just 
related, the young Mexican settled his accounts with the 
Rocky Mountain Company, and obtained his discharge. He 
then left his comrades and set off to rejoin his wife and child 
among her people ; and we understand that, at the time we are 
writing these pages, he resides at a trading-house established 
of late by the American Fur Company in the Blackf oot coun- 
try, where he acts as an interpreter, and has his Indian girl 
with him. 



84 AD VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTEE XII. 

A WINTER CAMP IN THE WILDERNESS— MEDLEY OF TRAPPERS- 
HUNTERS, AND INDIANS— SCARCITY OF GAME— NEW ARRANGE^ 
MENTS IN THE CAMP— DETACHMENTS SENT TO A DISTANCE — 
CARELESSNESS OF THE INDIANS WHEN ENCAMPED— SICKNESS 
AMONG THE INDIANS— EXCELLENT CHARACTER OF THE NEZ 
PERCES— THE CAPTAIN'S EFFORT AS A PACIFICATOR— A NEZ 
PERCE'S ARGUMENT IN FAVOR OF WAR— ROBBERIES BY THE 
BLACKFEET— LONG SUFFERING OF THE NEZ PERCES— A HUN- 
TER'S ELYSIUM AMONG THE MOUNTAINS— MORE ROBBERIES — 
THE CAPTAIN PREACHES UP A CRUSADE— THE EFFECT UPON 
HIS HEARERS. 

For the greater part of the month of November Captain 
Bonneville remained in his temporary post on Salmon Eiver. 
He was now in the full enjoyment of his wishes ; leading a 
hunter's life in the heart of the wilderness, with all its wild 
populace around him. Beside his own people, motley in char- 
acter and costume — Creole, Kentuckian, Indian, half-breed, 
hired trapper, and free trapper — he was surrounded by en- 
campments of Nez Perces and Flatheads, with their droves of 
horses covering the hills and plains. It was, he declares, a 
wild and bustling scene. The hunting parties of white men 
and red men, continually sallying forth and returning; the 
groups at the various encampments, some cooking, some 
working, some amusing themselves at different games; the 
neighing of horses, the braying of asses, the resounding 
strokes of the axe, the sharp report of the rifle, the whoop, 
the halloo, and the frequent burst of laughter, all in the midst 
of a region suddenly roused from perfect silence and loneliness 
by this transient hunters' sojourn, realized, he says, the idea 
of a " populous solitude." 

The kind and genial character of the captain had, evidently, 
its influence on the opposite races thus fortuitously congregated 
together. The most perfect harmony prevailed between them. 
The Indians, he says, were friendly in their dispositions, and hon- 
est to the most scrupulous degree in their intercourse with the 
white men. It is true they wjre somewhat importunate in 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEViLZE. 85 

their curiosity, and apt to be continually in the way, examining 
everything with keen and prying eye, and watching avery 
movement of the white men. All this, however, was borne 
with great good-humor by the captain, and through his exam- 
ple by his men. Indeed, throughout all his transactions he 
shows himself the friend of the poor Indians, and his conduct 
toward them is above all praise. 

The Nez Perces, the Flatheads, and the Hanging-ears pride 
themselves upon the number of their horses, of which they pos- 
sess more in proportion than any other of the mountain tribes 
within the buffalo range. Many of the Indian warriors and 
hunters encamped around Captain Bonneville possess from 
thirty to forty horses each. Their horses are stout, well-built 
ponies, of great wind, and capable of enduring the severest 
hardship and fatigue. The swiftest of them, however, are 
those obtained from the whites while sufficiently young to be- 
come acclimated and inured to the rough service of the moun' 
tains. 

By degrees the populousness of this encampment began to 
produce its inconveniences. The immense droves of horses 
owned by the Indians consumed the herbage of the surround- 
ing hills ; while to drive them to any distant pasturage, in a 
neighborhood abounding with lurking and deadly enemies, 
would be to endanger the loss both of man and beast. Game, 
too, began to grow scarce. It was soon hunted and frightened ■ 
out of the vicinity, and though the Indians made a wide cir- 
cuit through the mountains in the hope of driving the buffalo 
toward the cantonment, their expedition was unsuccessful. It 
was plain that so large a party could not subsist themselves 
there, nor in any one place throughout the winter. Captain 
Bonneville, therefore, altered his whole arrangements. He de- 
tached fifty men toward the south to winter upon Snake Eiver, 
and to trap about its waters in the spring, with orders to rejoin 
nim in the month of July at Horse Creek, in Green River val- 
ley, which he had fixed upon as the general rendezvous of his 
company for the ensuing year. 

Of all his late party, he now retained with him merely a 
small number of free trappers, with whom he intended to so- 
journ among the Nez Perces and Flatheads, and adopt the 
Indian mode of moving with the game and grass. Those 
bands, in effect, shortly afterward broke up their encamp 
ments and set off for a less beaten neighborhood. Captain 
Bonneville remained behind for a few days, that he might se- 



86 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

cretly prepare caches, in which to deposit everything noi re- 
quired for current use. Thus lightened of all superfluous 
incumbrance, he set off on the 20th of November to rejoin his 
Indian allies. He found them encamped in a secluded part of 
the country, at the head of a small stream. Considering them- 
selves out of all danger in this sequestered spot from their old 
enemies, the Blackfeet, their encampment manifested the most 
negligent security. Their lodges were scattered in every direct 
tion, and their horses covered every hill for a great distance 
round, grazing upon the upland bunch grass which grew in 
great abundance, and though dry, retained its nutritious prop- 
erties instead of losing them like other grasses in the autumn. 

When the Nez Perces, Flatheads, and Pends Oreilles are en- 
camped in a dangerous neighborhood, says Captain Bonneville, 
the greatest care is taken of their horses, those prime articles 
of Indian wealth, and objects of Indian depredation. Each 
warrior has his horse tied by one foot at night to a stake plant- 
ed before his lodge. Here they remain until broad daylight ; 
by that time the young men of the camp are already ranging 
over the surrounding hills. Each family then drives its horses 
to some eligible spot, where they are left to graze unattended. 
A young Indian repairs occasionally to the pasture to give 
them water, and to see that all is well. So accustomed are the 
horses to this management, that they keep together in the pas- 
ture where they have been left. As the sun sinks behind the 
hills, they may be seen moving from all points toward the 
camp, where they surrender themselves to be tied up for the 
night. Even in situations of danger, the Indians rarely set 
guards over their camp at night, intrusting that office entirely 
to their vigilant and well-trained dogs. 

In an encampment, however, of such fancied security as that 
in which Captain Bonneville found his Indian friends, much 
of these precautions with respect to their horses are omitted, 
They merely drive them, at nightfall, to some sequestered lit- 
tle dell, and leave them there, at perfect liberty, until the 
morning. 

One object of Captain Bonneville in wintering among these 
Indians was to procure a supply of horses against the spring. 
They were, however, extremely unwilling to part with any, 
and it was with great difficulty that he purchased, at the rate 
of twenty dollars each, a few for the use of some of his free 
trappers who were on foot and dependent on him for their 
equipment. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 87 

In this encampment Captain Bonneville remained from the 
21st of November to the 9th of December. During this period 
the thermometer ranged from thirteen to forty -two degrees. 
There were occasional falls of snow; but it generally melted 
away almost immediately, and the tender blades of new grass 
began to shoot up among the old. On the 7th of December, 
however, the thermometer fell to seven degrees. 

The reader will recollect that, on distributing his forces when 
in Green River valley, Captain Bonneville had detached a 
party, headed by a leader of the name of Matthieu, with all the 
weak and disabled horses, to sojourn about Bear River, meet 
the Shoshonie bands, and afterward to rejoin him at his winter 
camp on Salmon River. 

More than sufficient time had elapsed, yet Matthieu failed to 
make his appearance, and uneasiness began to be felt on his 
account. Captain Bonneville sent out four men, to range the 
country through which he would have to pass, and endeavor to 
get some information concerning him ; for his route lay across 
the great Snake River plain, which spreads itself out like an 
Arabian desert, and on which a cavalcade could be descried at 
a great distance. The scouts soon returned, having proceeded 
no further than the edge of the plain, pretending that their 
horses were lame ; but it was evident they had feared to ven- 
ture, with so small a force, into these exposed and dangerous 
regions. 

A disease, which Captain Bonneville supposed to be pneu- 
monia, now appeared among the Indians, carrying off num- 
bers of them after an illness of three or four days. The 
worthy captain acted as physician, prescribing profuse sweat- 
ings and copious bleedings, and uniformly with success, if the 
patient were subsequently treated with proper care. In extra- 
ordinary cases, the poor savages called in the aid of their own 
doctors or conjurors, who officiated with great noise and mum- 
mery, but with little benefit. Those who died during this 
epidemic were buried in graves, after the manner of the 
whites, but without any regard to the direction of the head. 
It is a fact worthy of notice that, while this malady made such 
ravages among the natives, not a single white man had the 
slightest symptom of it. 

A familiar intercourse of some standing with the Pierced- 
nose and Flathead Indians had now convinced Captain Bonne- 
ville of their amicable and inoffensive character ; he began to 
take a strong interest in them, and conceived the idea of be- 



— 



88 ADVENTUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

coming a pacificator, and healing the deadly feud between 
them and the Blackfeet, in which they were so deplorably the 
sufferers. He proposed the matter to some of the leaders, and 
urged that they should meet the Blackfeet chiefs in a grand 
pacific conference, offering to send two of his men to the 
enemy's camp with pipe, tobacco and flag of truce, to nego- 
rotiate the proposed meeting. 

The Nez Perces and Flathead sages upon this held a council 
of war of two days' duration, in which there was abundance of 
hard smoking and long talking, and both eloquence and to- 
bacco were nearly exhausted. At length they came to a deci- 
sion to reject the worthy captain's proposition, and upon 
pretty substantial grounds, as the reader may judge. 

"War," said the chiefs, "is a bloody business, and full of 
evil; but it keeps the eyes of the chiefs always open, and 
makes the limbs of the young men strong and supple. In war, 
every one is on the alert. If we see a trail we know it must be 
an enemy ; if the Blackfeet come to us, we know it is for war, 
and we are ready. Peace, on the other hand, sounds no alarm ; 
the eyes of the chiefs are closed in sleep, and the young men 
are sleek and lazy. The horses stray into the mountains ; the 
women and their little babes go about alone. But the heart of 
a Blackfoot is a lie, and his tongue is a trap. If he says peace 
it is to deceive ; he comes to us as a brother ; he smokes his 
pipe with us ; but when he sees us weak, and off our guard, he 
will slay and steal. We will have no such peace ; let there be 
war !" 

With this reasoning Captain Bonneville was fain to ac- 
quiesce; but, since the sagacious Flatheads and their allies 
were content to remain in a state of warfare, he wished them 
at least to exercise the boasted vigilance which war was to 
produce, and to keep their eyes open. He represented to them 
the impossibility that two such considerable clans could move 
about the country without leaving trails by which they might 
be traced. Besides, among the Blackfeet braves were several 
Nez Perces, who had been taken prisoners in early youth, 
adopted by their captors, and trained up and imbued with 
warlike and predatory notions ; these had lost all sympathies 
with their native tribe, and would be prone to lead the enemy 
to their secret haunts. He exhorted them, therefore, to keep 
upon the alert, and never to remit their vigilance while within 
the range of so crafty and cruel a foe. All these counsels were 
lost upon his easy and simple-minded hearers. A careless in 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 89 

difference reigned throughout their encampments, and their 
horses were permitted to range the hills at night in perfect 
freedom. Captain Bonneville had his own horses brought in 
at night, and properly picketed and guarded. The evil he ap- 
prehended soon took place. In a single night a swoop was 
made through the neighboring pastures by the Blackfeet, and 
eighty-six of the finest horses carried off. A whip and a rope 
were left in a conspicuous situation by the robbers, as a taunt 
to the simpletons they had unhorsed. 

Long before sunrise the news of this calamity spread like 
wildfire through the different encampments. Captain Bonne- 
ville, whose own horses remained safe at their pickets, watched 
in momentary expectation of an outbreak of warriors, Pierced- 
nose and Flathead, in furious pursuit of the marauders ; but 
no such thing — they contented themselves with searching dili- 
gently over hill and dale, to glean up such horses as had 
escaped the hands of the marauders, and then resigned them- 
selves to their loss with the most exemplary quiescence. 

Some, it is true, who were entirely unhorsed, set out on a 
begging visit to their cousins, as they called them, the Lower 
Nez Perces, who inhabit the lower country about the Colum- 
bia, and possess horses in abundance. To these they repair 
when in difficulty, and seldom fail, by dint of begging and bar- 
tering, to get themselves once more mounted on horseback. 

Game had now become scarce in the neighborhood of the 
camp, and it was necessary, according to Indian custom, to 
move off to a less beaten ground. Captain Bonneville pro- 
posed the Horse Prairie ; but his Indian friends objected that 
many of the Nez Perces had gone to visit their cousins, and 
that the whites were few in number, so that their united force 
was not sufficient to venture upon the buffalo grounds, which 
were infested by bands of Blackfeet. 

They now spoke of a place at no great distance, which they 
represented as a perfect hunter's elysium. It was on the right 
branch, or head stream of the river, locked up among cliffs and 
precipices where there was no danger from roving bands, and 
where the Blackfeet dare not enter. Here, they said, the elk 
abounded, and the mountain sheep were to be seen trooping 
upon the rocks and hills. A little distance beyond it, also, 
herds of buffalo were to be met with, out of the range of dan- 
ger. Thither they proposed to move their camp. 

The proposition pleased the captain, who was desirous, 
through the Indians, of becoming acquainted with all the 



90 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

secret places of the land. Accordingly, on the 9th of Decem- 
ber, they struck their tents, and moved forward by short 
stages, as many of the Indians were yet feeble from the late 
malady. 

Following up the right fork of the river they came to where 
it entered a deep gorge of the mountains, up which lay the se- 
cluded region so much valued by the Indians. Captain Bonne- 
ville halted and encamped for three days before entering the 
gorge. In the meantime he detached five of his free trappers 
to scour the hills, and kill as many elk as possible, before the 
main body should enter, as they would then be soon frightened 
away by the various Indian hunting parties. 

While thus encamped, they were still liable to the marauds 
of the Blackfeet, and Captain Bonneville admonished his 
Indian friends to be upon their guard. The Nez Perces, how- 
ever, notwithstanding their recent loss, were still careless of 
their horses ; merely driving them to some secluded spot, and 
leaving them there for the night, without setting any guard 
upon them. The consequence was a second swoop, in which 
forty-one were carried off. This was borne with equal philoso- 
phy with the first, and no effort was made either to recover 
the horses, or to take vengeance on the thieves. 

The Nez Perces, however, grew more cautious with respect 
to their remaining horses, driving them regularly to the camp 
every evening, and fastening them to pickets. Captain Bonne- 
ville, however, told them that this was not enough. It was 
evident they were dogged by a daring and persevering enemy, 
who was encouraged by past impunity; they should, there- 
fore, take more than usual precautions, and post a guard at 
night over their cavalry. They could not, however, be per- 
suaded to depart from their usual custom. The horse once 
picketed, the care of the owner was over for the night, and he 
slept profoundly. None waked in the camp but the gamblers, 
who, absorbed in their play, were more difficult to be roused 
to external circumstances than even the sleepers. 

The Blackfeet arf bold enemies, and fond of hazardous ex 
ploits. The band that were hovering about the neighborhood, 
finding that they had such pacific people to deal with, re- 
doubled their daring. The horses being now picketed before 
the lodges, a number of Blackfeet scouts penetrated in the 
early part of the night into the very centre of the camp. Here 
they went about among the lodges as calmly and deliberately as 
if at home, quietly cutting loose the horses that stood picketed 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. Q\ 

by the lodges of their sleeping owners. One of these prowlers, 
more a dventurous than the rest, approached a fire round which 
a group of Nez Perces were gambling with the most intense 
eagerness. Here he stood for some time, muffled up in his 
robe, peering over the shoulders of the players, watching the 
changes of their countenances and the fluctuations of the 
game. So completely engrossed were they, that the presence 
of this muffled eaves-dropper was unnoticed and, having exe- 
cuted his bravado, he retired undiscovered. 

Having cut loose as many horses as they could conveniently 
carry off, the Blackfeet scouts rejoined their comrades, and 
aH remained patiently round the camp. By degrees the 
horses, finding themselves at liberty, took their route toward 
their customary grazing ground. As they emerged from the 
camp they were silently taken possession of, until, having 
secured about thirty, the Blackfeet sprang on their backs 
and scampered off. The clatter of hoofs startled the gam- 
blers from their game. They gave the alarm, which soon 
roused the sleepers from every lodge. Still all was quiescent ; 
no marshalling of forces, no saddling of steeds and dashing 
off in pursuit, no talk of retribution for their repeated out- 
rages. The patience of Captain Bonneville was at length ex- 
hausted. He had played the part of a pacificator without 
success; he now altered his tone, and resolved, if possible, to 
rouse their war spirit. 

Accordingly, convoking their chiefs, he inveighed against 
their craven policy, and urged the necessity of vigorous and 
retributive measures that would check the confidence and 
presumption of their enemies, if not inspire them with awe. 
For this purpose, he advised that a war party should be imme- 
diately sent off on the trail of the marauders, to fpllow them, 
if necessary, into the very heart of the Blackfoot country, and 
not to leave them until they had taken signal vengeance. Be- 
side this, he recommended the organization of minor war 
parties, to make reprisals to the extent of the losses sustained. 
" Unless you rouse yourselves from your apathy," said he, 
"and strike some bold and decisive blow, you will cease to be 
considered men, or objects of manly warfare. The very 
squaws and children of the Blackfeet will be set against you, 
while their warriors reserve themselves for nobler antag- 
onists." 

This harangue had evidently a momentary effect upon the 
pride of the hearers. After a short pause, however, one of the 



92 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

orators arose. It was had, he said, to go to war for mere re- 
venge. The Great Spirit had given them a heart for peace, 
not for war. They had lost horses, it was true, but they could 
easily get others from their cousins, the Lower Nez Perces,* 
without incurring any risk ; whereas, in war they should lose 
men, who were not so readily replaced. As to their late losses, 
an increased watchfulness would prevent any more misfor- 
tunes of the kind. He disapproved, therefore, of all hostile 
measures ; and all the other chiefs concurred in his opinion. 

Captain Bonneville again took up the point. "It is true," 
said he, ' ' the Great Spirit has given you a heart to love your 
friends; but he has also given you an arm to strike your 
enemies. Unless you do something speedily to put an end to 
this continual plundering, I must say farewell. As yet I have 
sustained no loss ; thanks to the precautions which you have 
slighted ; but my property is too unsafe here ; my turn will 
come next ; I and my people will share the contempt you are 
bringing upon yourselves, and will be thought, like you, poor- 
spirited beings, who may at any time be plundered with im 
punity." 

The conference broke up with some signs of excitement on 
the part of the Indians. Early the next morning, a party of 
thirty men set off in pursuit of the foe, and Captain Bonne- 
ville hoped to hear a good account of the Blackfeet marau- 
ders. To his disappointment, the war party came lagging 
back on the following day, leading a few old, sorry, broken- 
down horses, which the f ree-booters had not been able to urge 
to sufficient speed. This effort exhausted the martial spirit, 
and satisfied the wounded pride of the Nez Perces, and they 
relapsed into their usual state of passive indifference. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

STORY OF KOSATO, THE RENEGADE BLACKFOOT. 

If the meekness and long-suffering of the Pierced-noses 
grieved the spirit of Captain Bonneville, there was another in- 
dividual in the camp to whom they were still more annoying. 
This was a Blackfoot renegado, named Kosato, a fiery hot- 
blooded youth who, with a beautiful girl of the same tribe. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 93 

had taken refuge among the Nez Perces. Though adopted 
into the tribe, he still retained the warlike spirit of his race, 
and loathed the peaceful, inoffensive habits of those around 
him. The hunting of the deer, the elk, and the buffalo, which 
was the height of their ambition, was too tame to satisfy his 
wild and restless nature. His heart burned for the foray, the 
ambush, the skirmish, the scamper, and all the haps and 
hazards of roving and predatory warfare. 

The recent hoverings of the Blackf eet about the camp, their 
nightly prowls and daring and successful marauds, had kept 
him in a fever and a flutter, like a hawk in a cage who hears 
his late companions swooping and screaming in wild liberty 
above him. The attempt of Captain Bonneville to rouse the 
war spirit of the Nez Perces, and prompt them to retaliation, 
was ardently seconded by Kosato. For several days he was 
incessantly devising schemes of vengeance, and endeavoring to 
set on foot an expedition that should carry dismay and desola- 
tion into the Blackfeet town. All his art was exerted to touch 
upon those springs of human action with which he was most 
familiar. He drew the listening savages round him by his ner- 
vous eloquence ; taunted them with recitals of past wrongs and 
insults ; drew glowing pictures of triumphs and trophies within 
their reach ; recounted tales of daring and romantic enterprise, 
of secret marchings, covert lurkings, midnight surprisals, sack- 
ings, burnings, plunderings, scalpings; together with the tri- 
umphant return, and the feasting and rejoicing of the victors. 
These wild tales were intermingled with the beating of the 
drum, the yell, the war-whoop and the war-dance, so inspiring 
to Indian valor. All, however, were lost upon the peaceful 
spirits of his hearers ; not a Nez Perce was to be roused to ven- 
geance, or stimulated to glorious war. In the bitterness of his 
heart, the Blackf oot renegado repined at the mishap which had 
severed him from a race of congenial spirits, and driven him to 
take refuge among beings so destitute of martial fire. 

The character and conduct of this man attracted the atten- 
tion of Captain Bonneville, and he was anxious to hear the 
reason why he had deserted his tribe, and why he looked back 
upon them with such deadly hostility. Kosato told him his 
own story briefly : it gives a picture of the deep, strong pas- 
sions that work in the bosoms of these miscalled stoics. 

" You see my wife," said he, " she is good; she is beautiful— 
I love her. Yet she hasl)een the cause of all my troubles. 
She was the wife of my chief. I loved her more than he did ; 



94 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

and she knew it. We talked together ; we laughed together ; we 
were always seeking each other's society ; but we were as inno- 
cent as children. The chief grew jealous, and commanded her 
to speak with me no more. His heart became hard toward her ; 
his jealousy grew more furious. He beat her without cause and 
without mercy ; and threatened to kill her outright if she even 
looked at me. Do you want traces of his fury ? Look at that scar ! 
His rage against me was no less persecuting. War parties of 
the Crows were hovering round us ; our young men had seen 
their trail. All hearts were roused for action ; my horses were 
before my lodge. Suddenly the chief came, took them to his 
own pickets, and called them his own. What could I do? he 
was a chief. I durst not speak, but my heart was burning. I 
joined no longer in the council, the hunt, or the war-feast. 
What had I to do there? an unhorsed, degraded warrior. I 
kept by myself, and thought of nothing but these wrongs and 
outrages. 

" I was sitting one evening upon a knoll that overlooked the 
meadow where the horses were pastured. I saw the horses that 
were once mine grazing among those of the chief. This mad- 
dened me, and I sat brooding for a time over the injuries I had 
suffered, and the cruelties which she I loved had endured for 
my sake, until my heart swelled and grew sore, and my teeth 
were clinched. As I looked down upon the meadow I saw the 
chief walking among his horses. I fastened my eyes upon him 
as a hawk's ; my blood boiled ; I drew my breath hard. He went 
among the willows. In an instant I was on my feet; my hand 
was on my knife — I flew rather than ran — before he was aware 
I sprang upon him, and with two blows laid him dead at my 
feet. I covered his body with earth, and strewed bushes over 
the place ; then I hastened to her I loved, told her what I had 
done, and urged her to fly with me. She only answered me 
with tears. I remfhded her of the wrongs I had suffered, and 
of the blows and stripes she had endured from the deceased; I 
had done nothing but an act of justice. I again urged her to 
fly; but she only wept the more, and bade me go. My heart 
was heavy, but my eyes were dry. I folded my arms. ' 'Tis 
well,' said I; l Kosato will go alone to the desert. None will 
be with him but the wild beasts of the desert. The seekers 
of blood may follow on his trail. They may come upon him 
when he sleeps and glut their revenge ; but you will be safe. 
Kosato will go alone.' 

" I turned away. She sprang after me, and strained me in 



AD VENTUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 95 

her arms. ■ No,' cried she, ' Kosato shall not go alone ! Wher- 
ever he goes I will go— he shall never part from me.' 

" We hastily took in our hands such things as we most 
needed, and stealing quietly from the village, mounted the first 
horses we encountered. Speeding day and night, we soon 
reached this tribe. They received us with welcome, and we 
have dwelt with them in peace. They are good and kind ; they 
are honest; but their hearts are the hearts of women." 

Such was the story of Kosato, as related by him to Captain 
Bonneville. It is of a kind that often occurs in Indian lif e ; 
where love elopements from tribe to tribe are as frequent as 
among the novel-read heroes and heroines of sentimental 
civilization, and often give rise to bloody and lasting feuds. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE PARTY ENTERS THE MOUNTAIN GORGE— A WILD FASTNESS 
AMONG HILLS— MOUNTAIN MUTTON — PEACE AND PLENTY— THE 
AMOROUS TRAPPER— A PIEBALD WEDDING— A FREE TRAPPER'S 
WIFE— HER GALA EQUIPMENTS— CHRISTMAS IN THE WILDER- 
NESS. 

On the 19th of December Captain Bonneville and his con- 
federate Indians raised their camp, and entered the narrow 
gorge made by the north fork of Salmon River. Up this lay 
the secure and plenteous hunting region so temptingly described 
by the Indians. 

s Since leaving Green River the plains had invariably been of 
loose sand or coarse gravel, and the rocky formation of the 
mountains of primitive limestone. The rivers, in general, 
were skirted with willows and bitter cotton-wood trees, and 
the prairies covered with wormwood. In the hollow breast of 
the mountains which they were now penetrating, the surround- 
ing heights were clothed with pine ; while the declivities of the 
lower hills afforded abundance of bunch grass for the horses. 

As the Indians had represented, they were now in a natural 
fastness of the mountains, the ingress and egress of which was 
by a deep gorge, so narrow, rugged, and difficult as to prevent 
secret approach or rapid retreat, and to admit of easy defence. 
r Ehe Blackfeet, therefore, refrained from venturing in after th8 



96 ADVENTUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

Nez Perces, awaiting a better chance, when they should once 
more emerge into the open country. 

Captain Bonneville soon found that the Indians had not ex- 
aggerated the advantages of this region. Besides the numer- 
ous gangs of elk, large flocks of the ahsahta or bighorn, the 
mountain sheep, were to be seen bounding among the preci- 
pices. These simple animals were easily circumvented and 
destroyed. A few hunters may surround a flock and kill as 
many as they please. Numbers w^ere daily brought into 
camp, and the flesh of those which were young and fat was 
extolled as superior to the finest mutton. 

Here, then, there was a cessation from toil, from hunger, 
and alarm. Past ills and dangers were forgotten. The hunt, 
the game, the song, the story, the rough though good-hu- 
mored joke, made time pass joyously away, and plenty and 
security reigned throughout the camp. 

Idleness and ease, it is said, lead to love, and love to matri- 
mony, in civilized life, and the same process takes place in the 
wilderness. Filled with good cheer and mountain mutton, 
one of the free trappers began to repine at the solitude of his 
lodge, and to experience the force of that great law of nature, 
" it is not meet for man to live alone." 

After a night of grave cogitation he repaired to Kowsoter, 
the Pierced-nose chief, and unfolded to him the secret work- 
ings of his bosom. 

" I want," said he, " a wife. Give me one from among your 
tribe. Not a young, giddy-pated girl, that will think of noth- 
ing but flaunting and finery, but a sober, discreet, hard-work- 
ing squaw ; one that will share my lot without flinching, how- 
ever hard it may be ; that can take care of my lodge, and be 
a companion and a helpmate to me in the wilderness." Kow- 
soter promised to look round among the females of his tribe, 
and procure such a one as he desired. Two days were requi- 
site for the search. At the expiration of these, Kowsoter 
called at his lodge, and informed him that he would bring 
his bride to him in the course of the afternoon. He kept his 
word. At the appointed time he approached, leading the 
bride, a comely copper-colored dame attired in her Indian 
finery. Her father, mother, brothers by the half dozen and 
cousins by the score, all followed on to grace the ceremony 
and greet the new and important relative. 

The trapper received his new and numerous family connec- 
tion with proper solemnity; he placed his bride beside him, 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 97 

and, filling the pipe, the great symbol of peace, with his best 
tobacco, took two or three whiffs, then handed it to the chief 
who transferred it to the father of the bride, from whom it 
was passed on from hand to hand and mouth to mouth of the 
whole circle of kinsmen round the fire, all maintaining the 
most profound and becoming silence. 

After several pipes had been filled and emptied in this sol- 
emn ceremonial, the chief addressed the bride, detailing at 
considerable length the duties of a wife which, among In- 
dians, are little less onerous than those of the pack-horse; 
this done, he turned to her friends and congratulated them 
upon the great alliance she had made. They showed a due 
sense of their good fortune, especially when the nuptial pres- 
ents came to be distributed among the chiefs and relatives, 
amounting to about one hundred and eighty dollars. The 
company soon retired, and now the worthy trapper found 
indeed that he had no green girl to deal with; for the know- 
ing dame at once assumed the style and dignity of a trapper's 
wife: taking possession of the lodge as her undisputed em- 
pire, arranging everything according to her own taste and 
habitudes, and appearing as much at home and on as easy 
terms with the trapper as if they had been man and wife for 
years. 

We have already given a picture of a free trapper and his 
horse, as furnished by Captain Bonneville : we shall here sub- 
join, as a companion picture, his description of a free trap- 
per's wife, that the reader may have a correct idea of the kind 
of blessing the worthy hunter in question had invoked to so- 
lace hirn in the wilderness. 

"The free trapper, while a bachelor, has no greater pet than 
his horse ; but the moment he takes a wife (a sort of brevet 
rank in matrimony occasionally bestowed upon some Indian 
fair one, like the heroes of ancient chivalry in the open field), 
he discovers that he has a still more fanciful and capricious 
animal on which to lavish his expenses. 

1 ' No sooner does an Indian belle experience this promotion, 
than ail her notions at once rise and expand to the dignity of 
her situation, and the purse of her lover, and his credit into 
the bargain, are taxed to the utmost to fit her out in becoming 
style. The wife of a free trapper to be equipped and arrayed 
like any ordinary and undistinguished squaw? Perish the 
grovelling thought ! In the first place, she must have a horse 
for her own riding; but no jaded, sorry, earth-spirited hack 5 



98 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

such as is sometimes assigned by an Indian husband for the 
transportation of his squaw and her pappooses : the wife of a 
free trapper must have the most beautiful animal she can lay 
her eyes on. And then, as to his decoration: headstall, breast 
bands, saddle and crupper are lavishly embroidered with beads, 
and hung with thimbles, hawks' bells, and bunches of ribbons. 
From each side of the saddle hangs an esquimoot, a sort of 
pocket, in which she bestows the residue of her trinkets and 
nick-nacks, which cannot be crowded on the decoration of her 
horse or herself. Over this she folds, with great care, a 
drapery of scarlet and bright-colored calicoes, and now con- 
siders the caparison of her steed complete. 

" As to her own person, she is even still more extravagant. 
Her hair, esteemed beautiful in proportion to its length, is 
carefully plaited, and made to fall with seeming negligence 
over either breast. Her riding hat is stuck full of party-col- 
ored feathers : her robe, fashioned somewhat after that of the 
whites, is of red, green, and sometimes gray cloth, but always 
of the finest texture that can be procured. Her leggins and 
moccasins are of the most beautiful and expensive workman- 
ship, and fitted neatly to the foot and ankle, which with the 
Indian women are generally well formed and delicate. Then 
as to jewelry : in the way of finger-rings, ear-rings, necklaces, 
and other female glories, nothing within reach of the trapper's 
means is omitted that can tend to impress the beholder with 
an idea of the lady's high estate. To finish the who?e, she se- 
lects from among her blankets of various dyes one of some 
glowing color, and throwing it over her shoulders with a na j 
tive grace, vaults into the saddle of her gay, prancing steed, 
and is ready to follow her mountaineer ' to the last gasp with 
love and loyalty.' " 

Such is the general picture of the free trapper's wife, given 
by Captain Bonneville ; how far it applied in its details to the 
one in question does not altogether appear, though it would 
seem from the outset of her connubial career, that she was 
ready to avail herself of all the pomp and circumstance of her 
new condition. It is worthy of mention that wherever there 
are several wives of free trappers in a camp, the keenest rival- 
ry exists between them, to the sore detriment of their hus- 
bands' purses. Their whole time is expended and their inge- 
nuity tasked by endeavors to eclipse each other in dress and 
decoration. The jealousies and heart-burnings thus occasioned 
among these so-styled children of nature are equally intense 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 99 

with those of the rival leaders of style and fashion in the luxu- 
rious abodes of civilized life, 

The genial festival of Christmas, which throughout all Chris- 
tendom lights up the fireside of home with mirth and jollity, 
followed hard upon the wedding just described.. Though far 
from kindred and friends, Captain Bonneville and his handful 
of free trappers were not disposed to suffer the festival to pass 
unen joyed ; they were in a region of good cheer, and were dis- 
posed to be joyous; so it was determined to " light up the yule 
clog," and celebrate a merry Christmas in the heart of the 
wilderness. 

On Christmas eve, accordingly, they began their rude fetes 
and rejoicings. In the course of the night the free 'trappers 
surrounded the lodge of the Pierced-nose chief and in lieu of 
Christmas carols, saluted him with a feu dejoie. 

Kowsoter received it in a truly Christian spirit, and after a 
speech, in which he expressed his high gratification at the 
honor done him, invited the whole company to a feast on the 
following day. His invitation was gladly accepted. A Christ- 
mas dinner in the wigwam of an Indian chief ! There was nov- 
elty in the idea. Not one failed to be present. The banquet 
was served up in primitive style : skins of various kinds, nicely 
dressed for the occasion, were spread upon the ground ; upon 
these were heaped up abundance of venison, elk meat, and 
mountain mutton, with various bitter roots which the Indians 
use as condiments. 

After a short prayer, the company all seated themselves 
cross-legged, in Turkish fashion, to the banquet, which passed 
off with great hilarity. After which various games of strength 
and agility by both white men and Indians closed the Christ- 
mas festivities. 



m*——mm^^ma^mmmmi^Kmmr. ^■■HHHHNP 



100 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTER XV. 

A HUNT AFTER HUNTERS— HUNGRY TIMES— A VORACIOUS RE- 
PAST—WINTRY WEATHER— GODIN'S RIVER— SPLENDID WINTER 
SCENE ON THE GREAT LAVA PLAIN OF SNAKE RIVER— SEVERE 
TRAVELLING AND TRAMPING IN THE SNOW— MANOEUVRES OF A 
SOLITARY INDIAN HORSEMAN— ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER 
— BANNECK INDIANS— THE HORSE CHIEF — HIS CHARMED LIFE. 

The continued absence of Matthieuand his party had, by this 
time, caused great uneasiness in the mind of Captain Bonne- 
ville ; and, finding there was no dependence to be placed upon 
the perseverance and courage of scouting parties in so perilous 
a quest, he determined to set out himself on the search, and to 
keep on until he should ascertain something of the object of 
his solicitude. 

Accordingly on the 26th December he left the camp, ac- 
companied by thirteen stark trappers and hunters, all well 
mounted and armed for dangerous enterprise. On the follow- 
ing morning they passed out at the head of the mountain gorge 
and sallied forth into the open plain. As they confidently ex- 
pected a brush with the Blackfeet, or some other predatory 
horde, they moved with great circumspection, and kept vigi- 
lant watch in their encampments. 

In the course of another day they left the main branch of 
Salmon River, and proceeded south toward a pass called John 
Day's defile. It was severe and arduous travelling. The 
plains were swept by keen and bitter blasts of wintry wind ; 
the ground was generally covered with snow, game was scarce, 
so that hunger generally prevailed in the camp, while the want 
of pasturage soon began to manifest itself in the declining vigor 
of the horses. 

The party had scarcely encamped on the afternoon of the 
28th, when two of the hunters who had sallied forth in quest 
of game came galloping back in great alarm. While hunting 
they had perceived a party of savages, evidently manoeuvring 
to cut them off from the camp ; and nothing had saved them 
from being entrapped but the speed of their horses. 

These tidings struck dismay into the camp. Captain Bonne- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 101 

ville endeavored to reassure his men by representing the posi- 
tion of their encampment, and its capability of defence. He 
then ordered the horses to be driven in and picketed, and 
threw up a rough breastwork of fallen trunks of trees and the 
vegetable rubbish of the wilderness. Within this barrier was 
maintained a vigilant watch throughout the night, which 
passed away without alarm. At early dawn they scrutinized 
the surrounding plain, to discover whether any enemies had 
been lurking about during the night ; not a foot-print, however, 
was to be discovered in the coarse gravel with which the plain 
was covered. 

Hunger now began to cause more uneasiness than the appre- 
hensions of surrounding enemies. After marching a few miles 
they encamped at the foot of a mountain, in hopes of finding 
buffalo. It was not until the next day that they discovered a 
pair of fine bulls on the edge of the plain, among rocks and ra- 
vines. Having now been two days and a half without a mouth- 
ful of food, they took especial care that these animals should 
not escape them. While some of the surest marksmen ad- 
vanced cautiously with their rifles into the rough ground, four 
of the best mounted horsemen took their stations in the plain, 
to run the bulls down should they only be maimed. 

The buffalo were wounded and set off in headlong flight. 
The half -famished horses were too weak to overtake them on 
the frozen ground, but succeeded in driving them on the ice, 
where they slipped and fell, and were easily dispatched. The 
hunters loaded themselves with beef for present and future 
supply, and then returned and encamped at the last night's 
fire. Here they passed the remainder of the day, cooking and 
eating with a voracity proportioned to previous starvation, 
forgetting in the hearty revel of the moment the certain dan- 
gers with which they w^ere environed. 

The cravings of hunger being satisfied, they now began to 
debate about their further progress. The men were much dis- 
heartened by the hardships they had already endured. Indeed, 
two who had been in the rear guard, taking advantage of their 
position, had deserted and returned to the lodges of the Nez 
Ferces. The prospect ahead was enough to stagger the stout- 
est heart. They were in the dead of winter. As far as the eye 
could reach the wild landscape was wrapped in snow, which 
was evidently deepening as they advanced. Over this they 
would have to toil, with the icy wind blowing in their faces: 
their horses might give out through want of pasturage, and 



102 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

they themselves must expect intervals of horrible famine like 
that they had already experienced. 

With Captain Bonneville, however, perseverance was a mat- 
ter of pride ; and, having undertaken this enterprise, nothing 
could turn him back until it was accomplished : though he de- 
dares that, had he anticipated the difficulties and sufferings 
which attended it, he should have flinched from the undertak- 
ing. 

Onward, therefore, the little band urged their way, keeping 
along the course of a stream called John Day's Creek. The 
cold was so intense that they had frequently to dismount and 
travel on foot, lest they should freeze in their saddles. The 
days which at this season are short enough even in the open 
prairies, were narrowed to a few hours by the high mountains, 
which allowed the travellers but a brief enjoyment of the 
cheering rays of the sun. The snow was generally at least 
twenty inches in depth, and in many places much more: those 
who dismounted had to beat their way with toilsome steps. 
Eight miles were considered a good day's journey. The horses 
were almost famished; for the herbage was covered by the 
deep snow, so that they had nothing to subsist upon but scanty 
wisps of the dry bunch grass which peered above the surface, 
and the small branches and twigs of frozen willows and worm- 
wood. 

In this way they urged their slow and painful course to the 
south down Jolm Day's Creek, until it lost itself in a swamp. 
Here they encamped upon the ice among stiffened willows, 
where they were obliged to beat down and clear away the 
snow to procure pasturage for their horses. 

Hence, they toiled on to Godin Eiver ; so called after an Iro- 
quois hunter in the service of Sublette, who was murdered 
there by the Blackfeet. Many of the features of this remote 
wilderness are thus named after scenes of violence and blood- 
shed that occurred to the early pioneers. It was an act of 
filial vengeance on the part of Godin's son Antoine that, as the 
reader may recollect, brought on the recent battle at Pierre's 
Hole. 

From Godin's Eiver, Captain Bonneville and his followers 
came out upon the plain of the Three Butes, so called from 
three singular and isolated hills that rise from the midst. It 
is a part of the great desert of Snake Eiver, one of the most re- 
markable tracts beyond the mountains. Could they have ex- 
perienced a respite from their sufferings and anxieties, the 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 103 

immense landscape spread out before them was calculated to 
inspire admiration. Winter has its beauties and glories as 
well as summer ; and Captain Bonneville had the soul to ap- 
preciate them. 

Far away, says he, over the vast plains, and up the steep 
sides of the lofty mountains, the snow lay spread in dazzling 
whiteness: and whenever the sun emerged in the morning 
above the giant peaks, or burst forth from among clouds in his 
mid-day course, mountain and dell, glazed rock and frosted 
tree, glowed and sparkled with surpassing lustre. The tall 
pines seemed sprinkled with a silver dust, and the willows, 
studded with minute icicles reflecting the prismatic rays, 
brought to mind the fairy trees conjured up by thp caliph's 
story-teller to adorn his vale of diamonds. 

The poor wanderers, however, nearly starved with hunger 
and cold, were in no mood to enjoy the glories of these brilliant 
scenes ; though they stamped pictures on their memory which 
have been recalled with delight in more genial situations. 

Encamping at the west Bute, they found a place swept by 
the winds, so that it was bare of snow, and there was abun- 
dance of bunch grass. Here the horses were turned loose to 
graze throughout the night. Though for once they had ample 
pasturage, yet the keen winds were so intense that, in the 
morning, a mule was found frozen to death. The trappers gath- 
ered round and mourned over him as over a cherished friend. 
They feared their half-famished horses would soon share 
his fate, for there seemed scarce blood enough left in their 
veins to withstand the freezing cold. To beat the way further 
through the snow with these enfeebled animals seemed next to 
impossible ; and despondency began to creep over their hearts, 
when, fortunately, they discovered a trail made by some hunt- 
ing party. Into this they immediately entered, and proceeded 
with less difficulty. Shortly afterward, a fine buffalo "bull 
came bounding across the snow and was instantly brought 
down by the hunters. A fire was soon blazing and crackling, 
and an ample repast soon cooked, and sooner dispatched ; after 
which they made some further progress and then encamped. 
One of the men reached the camp nearly frozen to death ; but 
good cheer and a blazing fire gradually restored life, and put 
his blood in circulation. 

Having now a beaten path, they proceeded the next morning 
with more facility; indeed, the snow decreased in depth as 
they receded from the mountains, and the temperature became 



104 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

more mild. In the course of the day they discovered a soli* 
tary horseman hovering at a distance before them on the 
plain. They spurred on to overtake him ; but he was better 
mounted on a fresher steed, and kept at a wary distance, re- 
connoitring them with evident distrust ; for the wild dress of 
the free trappers, their leggins, blankets, and cloth caps gar- 
nished with fur and topped off with feathers, even their very 
elf-locks and weather-bronzed complexions, gave them the 
look of Indians rather than white men, and made him mistake 
them for a war party of some hostile tribe. 

After much manoeuvring, the wild horseman was at length 
brought to a parley; but even then he conducted himself with 
the caution of a knowing prowler of the prairies. Dismount- 
ing from his horse, and using him as a breastwork, he levelled 
his gun across his back, and, thus prepared for defence like a 
wary cruiser upon the high seas, he permitted himself to be 
approached within speaking distance. 

He proved to be an Indian of the Banneck tribe, belonging 
to a band at no great distance. It was some time before he 
could be persuaded that he was conversing with a party of 
white men, and induced to lay aside his reserve and join them. 
He then gave them the interesting intelligence that there were 
two companies of white men encamped in the neighborhood. 
This was cheering news to Captain Bonneville ; who hoped to 
find in one of them the long-sought party of Matthieu. Push- 
ing forward, therefore, with renovated spirits, he reached 
Snake Eiver by nightfall, and there fixed his encampment. 

Early the next morning (13th January, 1833), diligent search 
was made about the neighborhood for traces of the reported 
parties of white men. An encampment was soon discovered 
about four miles further up the river, in which Captain Bonne- 
ville to his great joy found two of Matthieu's men, from whom 
he learned that the rest of his party would be there in the 
course of a few days. It was a matter of great pride and self- 
gratulation to Captain Bonneville that he had thus accom- 
plished his dreary and doubtful enterprise ; and he determined 
to pass some time in this encampment, both to await the return 
of Matthieu, and to give needful repose to men and horses. 

It was, in fact, one of the most eligible and delightful winter- 
ing grounds in that whole range of country. The Snake River 
here wound its devious way between low banks through the 
great plain of the Three Butes ; and was bordered by wide and 
fertile meadows, It was studded with islands which, like the 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 105 

alluvial bottoms, were covered with groves of cotton-wood, 
thickets of willow, tracts of good lowland grass, and abundance 
of green rushes. The adjacent plains were so vast in extent 
that no single band of Indians could drive the buffalo out of 
them ; nor was the snow of sufficient depth to give any serious 
inconvenience. Indeed, during the sojourn of Captain Bonne- 
ville in this neighborhood, which was in the heart of winter, 
he found the weather, with the exception of a few cold and 
stormy days, generally mild and pleasant, freezing a little at 
night but invariably thawing with the morning's sun — resem- 
bling the spring weather in the middle parts of the United 
States. 

The lofty range of the Three Tetons, those great landmarks 
of the Eocky Mountains rising in the east and circling away to 
the north and west of the great plain of Snake Eiver, and the 
mountains of Salt River and Portneuf toward the south, catch 
the earliest falls of snow. Their white robes lengthen as the 
winter advances, and spread themselves far into the plain, 
driving the buffalo in herds to the banks of the river in quest 
of food ; where they are easily slain in great numbers. 

Such were the palpable advantages of this winter encamp- 
ment; added to which, it was secure from the prowlings and 
plunderings of any petty band of roving Blackfeet, the diffi- 
culties of retreat rendering it unwise for those crafty depre- 
dators to venture an attack . unless with an overpowering 
force. 

About ten miles below the encampment lay the Banneck 
Indians; numbering about one hundred and twenty lodges. 
They are brave and cunning warriors and deadly foes of the 
Blackfeet, whom they easily overcome in battles where their 
forces are equal. They are not vengeful and enterprising in 
warfare, however; seldom sending war parties to attack the 
Blackfeet towns, but contenting themselves with defending 
their own territories and house. About one third of their war= 
riors are armed with fusees, the rest with bows and arrows. 

As soon as the spring opens they move down the right bank 
of Snake Eiver and encamp at the heads of the Boisee and 
Payette. Here their horses wax fat on good pasturage, while 
the tribe revels in plenty upon the flesh of deer, elk, bear, and 
beaver. They then descend a little further, and are met by the 
Lower Nez Perces, with whom they trade for horses ; giving in 
exchange beaver, buffalo, and buffalo robes. Hence they strike 
upon the tributary streams on the left bank of Snake River, 



106 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

and encamp at the rise of the Portneuf and Blackf oot streams, 
in the buffalo range. Their horses, although of the Nez Perce 
breed, are inferior to the parent stock from being ridden at too 
early an age, being often bought when but two years old and 
immediately put to hard work. They have fewer horses, also, 
than most of these migratory tribes. 

At the time that Captain Bonneville came into the neigh= 
borhood of these Indians, they were all in mourning for their 
chief, surnamed The Horse. This chief was said to possess a 
charmed life, or rather, to be invulnerable to lead; no bullet 
having ever hit him, though he had been in repeated battles, 
and often shot at by the surest marksmen. He had shown 
great magnanimity in his intercourse with the white men. 
One of the great men of his family had been slain in an attack 
upon a band of trappers passing through the territories of his 
tribe. Vengeance had been sworn by the Bannecks ; but The 
Horse interfered, declaring himself the friend of white men 
and, having great influence and authority among his people, he 
compelled them to forego all vindictive plans and to conduct 
themselves amicably whenever they came in contact with the 
traders. 

This chief had bravely fallen in resisting an attack made by 
the Blackfeet upon his tribe, while encamped at the head of 
Godin Eiver. His fall in nowise lessened the faith of his people 
in his charmed life ; for they declared that it was not a bullet 
which laid him low, but a bit of horn which had been shot into 
him by some Blackf oot marksman aware, no doubt, of the in- 
efflcacy of lead. Since his death there was no one with suffi- 
cient influence over the tribe to restrain the wild and predatory 
propensities of the young men. The consequence was they had 
become troublesome and dangerous neighbors, openly friendly 
for the sake of traffic, but disposed to commit secret depreda- 
tions and to molest any small party that might fall within 
their reach. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 107 



CHAPTER XVI. 

MISADVENTURES OF MATTHIEU AND HIS PARTY — RETURN TO THE 
CACHES AT SALMON RIYER — BATTLE BETWEEN NEZ PERCYS 
AND BLACKFEET— HEROISM OF A NEZ PERCfc WOMAN— EN- 
ROLLED AMONG THE BRAVES. 

On the 3d of February Matthieu, with the residue of his band, 
arrived in camp. He had a disastrous story to relate. After 
parting with Captain Bonneville in Green River valley he had 
proceeded to the westward, keeping to the north of the Eutaw 
Mountains, a spur of the great Rocky chain. Here he experi- 
enced the most rugged travelling for his horses, and soon dis- 
covered that there was but little chance of meeting the Sho- 
shonie bands. He now proceeded along Bear River, a stream 
much frequented by trappers, intending to shape his course to 
Salmon River to rejoin Captain Bonneville. 

He was misled, however, either through the ignorance or 
treachery of an Indian guide, and conducted into a wild valley 
where he lay encamped during the autumn and the early part 
of the winter, nearly buried in snow and almost starved. 
Early in the season he detached five men, with nine horses, to 
proceed to the neighborhood of the Sheep Rock, on Bear 
River, where game was plenty, and there to procure a supply 
for the camp. They had not proceeded far on their expedition 
when their trail was discovered by a party of nine or ten In- 
dians, who immediately commenced a lurking pursuit, dogging 
them secretly for five or six days. So long as their encamp- 
ments were well chosen and a proper watch maintained the 
wary savages kept aloof; at length, observing that they were 
badly encamped, in a situation where they might be approached 
with secrecy, the enemy crept stealthily along under cover of 
the river bank, preparing to burst suddenly upon their prey. 

They had not advanced within striking distance, however, 
before they were discovered by one of the trappers. He im- 
mediately but silently gave the alarm to his companions. 
They all sprang upon their horses and prepared to retreat to a 
safe position. One of the party, however, named Jennings, 
doubted the correctness of the alarm, and before he mounted 
his horse wanted to ascertain the fact. His companions urged 



108 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

him to mount, but in vain ; he was incredulous and obstinate. 
A volley of firearms by the savages dispelled his doubts, but 
so overpowered his nerves that he was unable to get into his 
saddle. His comrades, seeing his peril and confusion, gener- 
ously leaped from their horses to protect him. A shot from a 
rifle brought him to the earth ; in his agony he called upon the 
others not to desert him. Two of them, Le Eoy and Ross, 
after fighting desperately, were captured by the savages ; the 
remaining two vaulted into their saddles and saved themselves 
by headlong flight, being pursued for nearly thirty miles. 
They got safe back to Matthieu's camp, where their story in- 
spired such dread of lurking Indians that the hunters could 
not be prevailed upon to undertake another foray in quest of 
provisions. They remained, therefore, almost starving in 
their camp ; now and then killing an old or disabled horse for 
food, while the elk and the mountain sheep roamed unmo- 
lested among the surrounding mountains. 

The disastrous surprisal of this hunting party is cited by 
Captain Bonneville to show the importance of vigilant watch- 
ing and judicious encampments in the Indian country. Most 
of this kind of disasters to traders and trappers arise from 
some careless inattention to the state of their arms and ammu- 
nition, the placing of their horses at night, the position of their 
camping ground, and the posting of their night watches. The 
Indian is a vigilant and crafty foe, by no means given to hair- 
brained assaults ; he seldom attacks when he finds his foe well 
prepared and on the alert. Caution is at least as efficacious a 
protection against him as courage. 

The Indians who made this attack were at first supposed to 
be Blackf eet ; until Captain Bonneville found subsequently, in 
the camp of the Bannecks, a horse, saddle, and bridle, which 
he recognized as having belonged to one of the hunters. The 
Bannecks, however, stoutly denied having taken these spoils 
in fight, and persisted in affirming that the outrage had been 
perpetrated by a Blackf oot band. 

Captain Bonneville remained on Snake River nearly three 
weeks after the arrival of Matthieu and his party. At length 
his horses having recovered strength sufficient for a journey, 
he prepared to return to the Nez Perces, or rather to visit his 
caches on Salmon River; that he might take thence goods and 
equipments for the opening season. Accordingly, leaving six- 
teen men at Snake River, he set out on the 19th of February 
with sixteen others on his journey to the caches. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 109 

Fording the river, he proceeded to the borders of the deep 
snow, when he encamped under the lee of immense piles of 
burned rock. On the 21st he was again floundering through 
the snow, on the great Snake Eiver plain, where it lay to the 
depth of thirty inches. It was sufficiently incrusted to bear a 
pedestrian, but the poor horses broke through the crust, and 
plunged and strained at every step. So lacerated were they 
by the ice that it was necessary to change the front every 
hundred yards, and put a different one in advance to break 
the way. The open prairies were swept by a piercing and 
biting wind from the northwest. At night, they had to task 
their ingenuity to provide shelter and keep from freezing. In 
the first place, they dug deep holes in the snow, piling it up in 
ramparts to windward as a protection against the bl&st. Be- 
neath these they spread buffalo skins, upon which they 
stretched themselves in full dress, with caps, cloaks, and moc- 
casins, and covered themselves with numerous bkmkets ; not- 
withstanding all which they were often severely pinched with 
the cold. 

On the 28th of February they arrived on the banks of G-odin 
River. This stream emerges from the mountains opposite an 
eastern branch of the Malade River, running southeast, forms 
a deep and swift current about twenty yards wide, passing 
rapidly through a defile to which it gives its name, and then 
enters the great plain where, after meandering about forty 
miles, it is finally lost in the region of the Burned Rocks. 

On the banks of this river Captain Bonneville was so fortu- 
nate as to come upon a buffalo trail. Following it up, he en- 
tered the defile, where he remained encamped for two days to 
allow the hunters time to kill and dry a supply of buffalo beef. 
In this sheltered defile the weather was moderate and grass 
was already sprouting more than an inch in height. There 
was abundance, too, of the salt weed which grows most plen- 
tiful in clayey and gravelly barrens. It resembles pennyroyal, 
and derives its name from a partial saltness. It is a nourish- 
ing food for the horses in the winter, but they reject it the 
moment the young grass affords sufficient pasturage. 

On the 6th of March, having cured sufficient meat, the party 
resumed their march, and moved on with comparative ease,, 
excepting where they had to make their way through snow- 
drifts which had been piled up by the wind. 

On the 11th, a small cloud of smoke was observed rising in a 
deep part of the defile. An encampment was instantly formed 



110 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

and scouts were sent out to reconnoitre. They returned with 
intelligence that it was a hunting party of Flatheads, return- 
ing from the buffalo range laden with meat. Captain Bonne- 
ville joined them the next day, and persuaded them to pro- 
ceed with his party a few miles below to the caches, whither 
he proposed also to invite the Nez Perces, whom he hoped to 
find somewhere in this neighborhood. In fact, on the 13th, he 
was rejoined by that friendly tribe who, since he separated 
from them on Salmon Eiver, had likewise been out to hunt 
the buffalo, but had continued to be haunted and harassed by 
their old enemies the Blackfeet, who, as usual, had contrived 
to carry off many of their horses. 

In the course of this hunting expedition, a small band of ten 
lodges separated from the main body in search of better pas- 
turage for their horses. About the 1st of March, the scattered 
parties of Blackfoot banditti united to the number of three 
hundred fighting men, and determined upon some signal blow. 
Proceeding to the former camping ground of the Nez Perces, 
they found the lodges deserted ; upon which they hid them- 
selves among the willows and thickets, watching for some 
straggler who might guide them to the present u whereabout" 
of their intended victims. As fortune would have it Kosato, 
the Blackfoot renegade, was the first to pass along, accom- 
panied by his blood-bought bride. He was on his way from 
the main body of hunters to the little band of ten lodges. The 
Blackfeet knew and marked him as he passed ; he was within 
bowshot of their ambuscade; yet, much as they thirsted for 
his blood, they forbore to launch a shaft ; sparing him for the 
moment that he might lead them to their prey. Secretly fol- 
lowing his trail, they discovered the lodges of the unfortunate 
Nez Perces, and assailed them with shouts and yellings. The 
Nez Perces numbered only twenty men, and but nine were 
armed with fusees. They showed themselves, however, as 
brave and skilful in war as they had been mild and long-suf - 
fering in peace. Their first care was to dig holes inside of 
their lodges ; thus ensconced they fought desperately, laying 
several of the enemy dead upon the ground; while they, 
though some of them were wounded, lost not a single warrior. 

During the heat of the battle, a woman of the Nez Perces, 
seeing her warrior badly wounded and unable to fight, seized 
his bow and arrows, and bravely and successfully defended his 
person, contributing to the safety of the whole party. 

In another part of the field of action, a Nez Perce had 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. \\\ 

crouched behind the trunk of a fallen tree, and kept up a gall- 
ing fire from his covert. A Blackfoot seeing this, procured a 
round log, and placing it before him as he lay prostrate, rolled 
it forward toward the trunk of the tree behind which his enemy- 
lay crouched. It was a moment of breathless interest; who- 
ever first showed himself would be in danger of a shot. The 
Nez Perce put an end to the suspense. The moment the logs 
touched he sprang upon his feet and discharged the contents 
of his fusee into the back of his antagonist. By this time the 
Blackfeet had got possession of the horses, several of their war- 
riors lay dead on the field, and the Nez Perces, ensconced in 
their lodges, seemed resolved to defend themselves to the last 
gasp. It so happened that the chief of the Blackfeet party was 
a renegade from the Nez Perces ; unlike Kosato, however, he 
had no vindictive rage against his native tribe, but was rather 
disposed, now he had got the booty, to spare all unnecessary 
effusion of blood. He held a long parley, therefore, with the 
besieged, and finally drew off his warriors, taking with him 
seventy horses. It appeared, afterward, that the bullets of the 
Blackfeet had been entirely expended in the course of the bat- 
tle, so that they were obliged to make use of stones as substi- 
tute. 

At the outset of the fight Kosato, the renegade, fought with 
fury rather than valor, animating the others by word as well 
as deed. A wound in the head from a rifle ball laid him sense- 
less on the earth. There his body remained when the battle 
was over, and the victors were leading off the horses. His wife 
hung over him with frantic lamentations. The conquerors 
paused and urged her to leave the lifeless renegade, and return 
with them to her kindred. She refused to listen to their solici- 
tations, and they passed on. As she sat watching the features 
of Kosato, and giving way to passionate grief, she thought she 
perceived him to breathe. She was not mistaken. The ball, \ 
which had been nearly spent before it struck him, had stunned 
instead of killing him. By the ministry of his faithful wife he 
gradually recovered, reviving to a redoubled love for her, and 
hatred of his tribe. 

As to the female who had so bravely defended her husband, 
she was elevated by the tribe to a rank far above her sex, and 
beside other honorable distinctions, was thenceforward per- 
mitted to take a part in the war dances of the braves ! 



112 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



CHAPTEE XVII. 

OPENING OF THE CACHES— DETACHMENTS OF CERRE AND HODG^ 
KISS— SALMON RIVER MOUNTAINS— SUPERSTITION OF AN INDIAN 
TRAPPER — GODIN'S RIVER— PREPARATIONS FOR TRAPPING — AN 
ALARM — AN INTERRUPTION— A RIVAL BAND —PHENOMENA OF 
SNAKE RIVER PLAIN— VAST CLEFTS AND CHASMS— INGULFED 
STREAMS — SUBLIME SCENERY — A GRAND BUFFALO HUNT. 

Captain Bonneville found his caches perfectly secure, and 
having escretly opened them he selected such articles as were 
necessary to equip the free trappers and to supply the incon- 
siderable trade with the Indians, after which he closed them 
again. The free trappers, being newly rigged out and supplied, 
were in high spirits, and swaggered gayly about the camp. To 
compensate all hands for past sufferings, and to give a cheer- 
ful spur to further operations, Captain Bonneville now gave 
the men what, in frontier phrase, is termed " a regular blow 
out." It was a day of uncouth gambols and frolics and rude 
feasting. The Indians joined in the sports and games, and all 
was mirth and good-fellowship. 

It was now the middle of March, and Captain Bonneville 
made preparations to open the spring campaign. He had 
pitched upon Malade Eiver for his main trapping ground for 
the season. This is a stream which rises among the great bed 
of mountains north of the Lava Plain, and after a winding 
course falls into Snake Eiver. Previous to his departure the 
captain dispatched Mr. Cerre, with a few men, to visit the 
Indian villages and purchase horses; he furnished his clerk, 
Mr. Hodgkiss, also, with a small stock of goods, to keep up a 
trade with the Indians during the spring, for such peltries as 
they might collect, appointing the caches on Salmon River as 
the point of rendezvous, where they were to rejoin him on the 
15th of June following. 

This done he set out for Malade River, with a band of twenty* 
eight men composed of hired and free trappers and Indian 
hunters, together with eight squaws. Their route lay up along 
the right fork of Salmon River, as it passes through the deep 
defile of the mountains. They travelled very slowly, not above 
five miles a day, for many of the horses were so weak that they 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. H3 

faltered and staggered as they walked. Pasturage, however, 
was now growing plentiful. There was abundance of fresh 
grass, which in some places had attained such height as to 
wave in the wind. The native flocks of the wilderness, the 
mountain sheep, as they are called by the trappers, were con- 
tinually to be seen upon the hills between which they passed, 
and a good supply of mutton was provided by the hunters, as 
they were advancing toward a region of scarcity. 

In the course of his journey Captain Bonneville had occasion 
to remark an instance of the many notions, and almost super- 
stitions, which prevail among the Indians, and among some of 
the white men, with respect to the sagacity of the beaver. 
The Indian hunters of his party were in the habit of exploring 
all the streams along which they passed, in search of "beaver 
lodges," and occasionally set their traps with some success. 
One of them, however, though an experienced and skilful trap- 
per, was invariably unsuccessful. Astonished and mortified at 
such unusual bad luck, he at length conceived the idea that 
there was some odor about his person of which the beaver got 
scent and retreated at his approach. He immediately set about 
a thorough purification. Making a rude sweating-house on the 
banks of the river, he would shut himself up until in a reeking 
perspiration, and then suddenly emerging, would plunge into 
the river. A number of these sweatings and plungings having, 
as he supposed, rendered his person perfectly " inodorous," he 
resumed his trapping with renovated hope. 

About the beginning of April they encamped upon Godin's 
River, where they found the swamp full of " musk-rat houses." 
Here, therefore, Captain Bonneville determined to remain a 
few days and make his first regular attempt at trapping. That 
his maiden campaign might open with spirit, he promised the 
Indians and free trappers an extra price for every musk-rat 
they should take. All now set to work for the next day's sport. 
The utmost animation and gayety prevailed throughout the 
camp. Everything looked auspicious for their spring campaign. 
The abundance of musk-rats in the swamp was but an earnest 
of the nobler game they were to find when they should reach 
the Malade River, and have a capital beaver country all to 
themselves, where they might trap at their leisure without 
molestation. 

In the midst of their gayety a hunter came galloping into 
the camp, shouting, or rather yelling, "A trail! a trail!— 
lodge poles ! lodge poles !" 



114 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

These were words full of meaning to a trapper's ear. They 
intimated that there was some band in the neighborhood, and 
probably a hunting party, as they had lodge poles for an en- 
campment. The hunter came up and told his story. He had 
discovered a fresh trail, in which the traces made by the drag- 
ging of lodge poles were distinctly visible. The buffalo, too, 
had just been driven out of the neighborhood, which showed 
that the hunters had already been on the range. 

The gayety of the camp was at an end ; all preparations for 
musk-rat trapping were suspended, and all hands sallied forth 
to examine the trail. Their worst fears were soon confirmed. 
Infallible signs showed the unknown party in the advance to be 
white men ; doubtless, some rival band of trappers ! Here was 
competition when least expected; and that too by a party 
already in the advance, who were driving the game before 
them. Captain Bonneville had now a taste of the sudden tran- 
sitions to which a trapper's life is subject. The buoyant confi- 
dence in an uninterrupted hunt was at an end ; every counte- 
nance lowered with gloom and disappointment. 

Captain Bonneville immediately dispatched two spies to over- 
take the rival party, and endeavor to learn their plans ; in the 
meantime, he turned his back upon the swamp and its musk- 
rat houses and followed on at " long camps," which in trapper's 
language is equivalent to long stages. On the 6th of April he 
met his spies returning. They had kept on the trail like hounds 
until they overtook the party at the south end of Godin's defile. 
Here they found them comfortably encamped: twenty-two 
prime trappers, all well appointed, with excellent horses in 
capital condition led by Milton Sublette, and an able coadjutor 
named Jarvie, and in full march for the Malade bunting ground. 
This was stunning news. The Malade Eiver was the only trap- 
ping ground within reach ; but to have to compete there with 
veteran trappers, perfectly at home among the mountains, and 
admirably mounted, while they were so poorly provided with 
horses and trappers, and had but one man in their party ac- 
quainted with the country — it was out of the question. 

The only hope that now remained was that the snow, which 
still lay deep among the mountains of Godin Eiver and blocked 
up the usual pass to the Malade country, might detain the other 
party until Captain Bonneville's horses should get once more 
into good condition in their present ample pasturage. 

The rival parties now encamped together, not out of com- 
panionship, but to keep an eye upon each other. Day after 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. Ho 

day passed by without any possibility of getting to the Malade 
country. Sublette and Jarvie endeavored to force their way 
across the mountain; but the snows lay so deep as to oblige 
them to turn back. In the meantime the captain's horses were 
daily gaining strength, and their hoofs improving, which had 
been worn and battered by mountain service. The captain, 
also, was increasing his stock of provisions ; so that the delay 
was all in his favor. 

To any one who merely contemplates a map of the country 
this difficulty of getting from Godin to Malade Eiver will ap- 
pear inexplicable, as the intervening mountains terminate in 
the great Snake Eiver plain, so that, apparently, it would be 
perfectly easy to proceed round their bases. 

Here, however, occur some of the striking phenomena of 
this wild and sublime region. The great lower plain which ex- 
tends to the feet of these mountains is broken up near their 
bases into crests, and ridges resembling the surges of the ocean 
breaking on a rocky shore. 

In a line with the mountains the plain is gashed with numer- 
ous and dangerous chasms, from four to ten feet wide, and of 
great depth. Captain Bonneville attempted to sound some of 
these openings, but without any satisfactory result. A stone 
dropped into one of them reverberated against the sides for 
apparently a very great depth, and, by its sound, indicated the 
same kind of substance with the surface, as long as the strokes 
could be heard. The horse, instinctively sagacious in avoiding 
danger, shrinks back in alarm from the least of these chasms, 
pricking up his ears, snorting and pawing, until permitted to 
turn away. 

We have been told by a person well acquainted with the 
country that it is sometimes necessary to travel fifty and sixty 
miles to get round one of these tremendous ravines. Consider- 
able streams, like that of Godin's River, that run with a bold, 
free current, lose themselves in this plain ; some of them end 
in swamps, others suddenly disappear, finding, no doubt, sub- 
terranean outlets. 

Opposite to these chasms Snake Eiver makes two desperate 
leaps over precipices, at a short distance from each other; one 
twenty, the other forty feet in height. 

The volcanic plain in question forms an area of about sixty 
miles in diameter, where nothing meets the eye but a desolate 
and awful waste ; where no grass grows nor water runs, and 
where nothing is to be seen but lava. Eanges of mountains 



116 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

skirt this plain, and, in Captain Bonneville's opinion, were 
formerly connected, until rent asunder by some convulsion of 
nature. Far to the east the Three Tetons lift their heads sub- 
limely, and dominate this wide sea of lava— one of the most 
striking features of a wilderness where everything seems on a 
scale of stern and simple grandeur. 

We look forward with impatience for some able geologist to 
explore this sublime but almost unknown region. 

It was not until the 25th of April that the two parties of 
trappers broke up their encampments, and undertook to cross 
over the southwest end of the mountain by a pass explored by 
their scouts. From various points of the mountain they com- 
manded boundless prospects of the lava plain, stretching away 
in cold and gloomy barrenness as far as the eye could reach. 
On the evening of the 26th they reached the plain west of the 
mountain, watered by the Malade, the Boisee, and other 
streams, which comprised the contemplated trapping-ground. 

The country about the Boisee (or Woody) Eiver is extolled 
by Captain Bonneville as the most enchanting he had seen in 
the Far West, presenting the mingled grandeur and beauty of 
mountain and plain, of bright running streams and vast grassy 
meadows waving to the breeze. 

We shall not follow the captain throughout his trapping 
campaign, which lasted until the beginning of June, nor detail 
all the manoeuvres of the rival trapping parties and their vari- 
ous schemes to outwit and out-trap each other. Suffice it to 
say that, after having visited and camped about various 
streams with various success, Captain Bonneville set forward 
early in June for the appointed rendezvous at the caches. On 
the way, he treated his party to a grand buffalo hunt. The 
scouts had reported numerous herds in a plain beyond an in- 
tervening height. There was an immediate halt; the fleetest 
horses were forthwith mounted and the party advanced to the 
summit of the hill. Hence they beheld the great plain below 
absolutely swarming with buffalo. Captain Bonneville now 
appointed the place where he would encamp; and toward 
which the hunters were to drive the game. He cautioned the 
latter to advance slowly, reserving the strength and speed of 
the horses until within a moderate distance of the herds. 
Twenty-two horsemen descended cautiously into the plain, 
conformably to these directions. " It was a beautiful sight," 
says the captain, "to see the runners, as they are called, ad- 
vancing in column, at a slow trot, until within two hundred 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. \YI 

and fifty yards of the outskirts of the herd, then dashing on at 
full speed until lost in the immense multitude of buffaloes 
scouring the plain in every direction." All was now tumult 
and wild confusion. In the meantime Captain Bonneville and 
the residue of the party moved on to the appointed camping 
ground ; thither the most expert runners succeeded in driving 
numbers of buffalo, which were killed hard by the camp, and 
the flesh transported thither without difficulty. In a little 
while the whole camp looked like one great slaughter-house ; 
the carcasses were skilfully cut up, great fires were made, 
scaffolds erected for drying and jerking beef, and an ample 
provision was made for future subsistence. On the 15th of 
June, the precise day appointed for the rendezvous, Captain 
Bonneville and his party arrived safely at the caches. 

Here he was joined by the other detachments of his main 
party, all in good health and spirits. The caches were again 
opened, supplies of various kinds taken out, and a liberal 
allowance of aqua vitce distributed throughout the camp, to 
celebrate with proper conviviality this merry meeting. 



CHAPTER XVHI. 

MEETING WITH HODGKISS— MISFORTUNES OF THE NEZ PERCES- 
SCHEMES OF KOSATO, THE RENEGADO— HIS FORAY INTO THE 
HORSE PRAIRIE — INVASION OF BLACKFEET— BLUE JOHN AND 
HIS FORLORN HOPE— THEIR GENEROUS ENTERPRISE— THEIR FATE 
—CONSTERNATION AND DESPAIR OF THE VILLAGE— SOLEMN 
OBSEQUIES— ATTEMPT AT INDIAN TRADE— HUDSON'S BAY COM- 
PANY'S MONOPOLY— ARRANGEMENTS FOR AUTUMN— BREAKING 
UP OF AN ENCAMPMENT. 

Having now a pretty strong party, well armed and equipped, 
Captain Bonneville no longer felt the necessity of fortifying 
himself in the secret places and fastnesses of the mountains ; 
but sallied forth boldly into the Snake JRiver plain, in search 
of his clerk, Hodgkiss, who had remained with the Nez Perces. 
He found him on the 24th of June, and learned from him an- 
other chapter of misfortunes which had recently befallen that 
ill-fated race. 

After the departure of Captain Bonneville in March, Kosato, 



118 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

the renegade Blackfoot, had recovered from the wound re- 
ceived in battle ; and with his strength revived all his deadly 
hostility to his native tribe. He now resumed his efforts to 
stir up the Nez Perces to reprisals upon their old enemies; re- 
minding them incessantly of all the outrages and robberies 
they had recently experienced, and assuring them that such 
would continue to be their lot until they proved themselves 
men by some signal retaliation. 

The impassioned eloquence of the desperado at length pro- 
duced an effect ; and a band of braves enlisted under his guid- 
ance, to penetrate into the Blackfoot country, harass their vil- 
lages, carry off their horses, and commit all kinds of depreda- 
tions. 

Kosato pushed forward on his foray as far as the Horse 
Prairie, where he came upon a strong party of Blackfeet. 
Without waiting to estimate their force, he attacked them 
with characteristic fury, and was bravely seconded by his 
followers. The contest, for a time, was hot and bloody; at 
length, as is customary with these two tribes, they paused, and 
held a long parley, or rather a war of words. 

"What need," said the Blackfoot chief , tauntingly, "have 
the Nez Perces to leave their homes, and sally forth on war 
parties, when they have danger enough at their own doors? If 
you want fighting, return to your villages; you will have 
plenty of it there. The Blackfeet warriors have hitherto made 
war upon you as children. They are now coming as men. A 
great force is at hand ; they are on their way to your towns, 
and are determined to rub out the very name of the Nez 
Perces from the mountains. Return, I say, to your towns, 
and fight there, if you wish to live any longer as a people." 

Kosato took him at his word ; for he knew the character of 
his native tribe. Hastening back with his band to the Nez 
Perces village, he told all that he had seen and heard, and 
urged the most prompt and strenuous measures for defence. 
The Nez Perces, however, heard him with their accustomed 
phlegm; the threat of the Blackfeet had been often made, and 
as often had proved a mere bravado ; such they pronounced it 
to be at present, and, of course, took no precautions. 

They were soon convinced that it was no empty menace. In 
a few days a band of three hundred Blackfeet warriors ap- 
peared upon the hills. All now was consternation in the 
village. The force of the Nez Perces was too small to cope with 
the enemy in open fight; many of the young men having gone 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 119 

to their relatives on the Columbia to procure horses, The sages 
met in hurried council. What was to be done to ward off a 
blow which threatened annihilation? In this moment of im- 
minent peril, a Pierced-nose chief, named Blue John by the 
whites, offered to approach secretly with a small, but chosen 
band, through a defile which led to the encampment of the 
enemy, and, by a sudden onset, to drive off the horses. Should 
this blow be successful, the spirit and strength of the invaders 
would be broken, and the Nez Perces, having horses, would be 
more than a match for them. Should it fail, the village would 
not be worse off than at present, when destruction appeared 
inevitable. 

Twenty-nine of the choicest warriors instantly volunteered 
to follow Blue John in this hazardous enterprise. They pre- 
pared for it with the solemnity and devotion peculiar to the 
tribe. Blue John consulted his medicine, or talismanic charm, 
such as every chief keeps in his lodge as a supernatural pro- 
tection. The oracle assured him that his enterprise would be 
completely successful, provided no rain should fall before he 
had passed through the defile; but should it rain, his band 
would be utterly cut off. 

The day was clear and bright; and Blue John anticipated 
that the skies would be propitious. He departed in high 
spirits with his forlorn hope; and never did band of braves 
make a more gallant display — horsemen and horses being dec- 
orated and equipped in the fiercest and most glaring style- 
glittering with arms and ornaments, and fluttering with 
feathers, 

The weather continued serene until they reached the defile; 
but just as they were entering it a black cloud rose over the 
mountain crest, and there was a sudden shower. The warriors 
turned to their leader, as if to read his opinion of this unlucky 
omen ; but the countenance of Blue John remained unchanged, 
and they continued to press forward. It was their hope to 
make their way undiscovered to the very vicinity of the Black- 
foot camp ; but they had not proceeded far in the defile, when 
they met a scouting party of the enemy. They attacked and 
drove them among the hills, and were pursuing them with 
great eagerness when they heard shouts and yells behind them, 
and beheld the main body of the Blackfeet advancing. 

The second chief wavered a little at the sight and proposed 
an instant retreat. "We came to fight!" replied Blue John, 
sternly. Then giving his war-whoop, he sprang forward to 



120 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

the conflict. His braves followed him. They made a head- 
long charge upon the enemy; not with the hope of victory, 
but the determination to sell their lives dearly. A frightful 
carnage, rather than a regular battle, succeeded. The forlorn 
band laid heaps of their enemies dead at their feet, but were 
overwhelmed with numbers and pressed into a gorge of the 
mountain ; where they continued to fight until they were cut 
to pieces. One only, of the thirty, survived. He sprang on 
the horse of a Blackf oot warrior whom he had slain, and escap- 
ing at full speed, brought home the baleful tidings to his 
village. 

Who can paint the horror and desolation of the inhabitants? 
The flower of their warriors laid low, and a ferocious enemy at 
their doors. v The air was rent by the shrieks and lamentations 
of the women, who, casting off their ornaments and tearing 
their hair, wandered about, frantically bewailing the dead 
and predicting destruction to the living. The remaining war- 
riors armed themselves for obstinate defence ; but showed by 
their gloomy looks and sullen silence that they considered de- 
fence hopeless. To their surprise the Blackfeet refrained from 
pursuing their advantage; perhaps satisfied with the blood 
already shed, or disheartened by the loss they had themselves 
sustained. At any rate, they disappeared from the hills, and 
it was soon ascertained that they had returned to the Horse 
Prairie. 

The unfortunate Nez Perces now began once more to breathe. 
A few of their warriors, taking pack-horses, repaired to the 
defile to bring away the bodies of their slaughtered brethren. 
They found them mere headless trunks ; and the wounds with 
which they were covered showed how bravely they had 
fought. Their hearts, too, had been torn out and carried off; 
a proof of their signal valor ; for in devouring the heart of a 
foe renowned for bravery, or who has distinguished himself in 
battle, the Indian victor thinks he appropriates to himself the 
courage of the deceased. 

Gathering the mangled bodies of the slain, and strapping 
them across their pack-horses, the warriors returned, in dis- 
mal procession, to the village. The tribe came forth to meet 
them; the women with piercing cries and wailings; the men 
with downcast countenances, in which gloom and sorrow 
seemed fixed as if in marble. The mutilated and almost undis- 
tinguishable bodies were placed in rows upon the ground, in 
the midst of the assemblage* and the scene of heart-rending 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 121 

anguish and lamentation that ensued would have confounded 
those who insist on Indian stoicism. 

Such was the disastrous event that had overwhelmed the 
Nez Perces tribe during the absence of Captain Bonneville; 
and he was informed that Kosato, the renegade, who, being 
stationed in the village, had been prevented from going on the 
forlorn hope, was again striving to rouse the vindictive feel- 
ings of his adopted brethren, and to prompt them to revenge 
the slaughter of their devoted braves. 

During his sojourn on the Snake River plain, Captain Bonne- 
ville made one of his first essays at the strategy of the fur 
trade. There was at this time an assemblage of Nez Perces, 
Flatheads, and Cottonois Indians encamped together upon the 
plain; well provided with beaver, which they had collected 
during the spring. These they were waiting to traffic with a 

a resident trader of the Hudson's Bay Company, who was 
stationed among them, and with whom they were accustomed 
to deal. As it happened, the trader was almost entirely desti- 
tute of Indian goods ; his spring supply not having yet reached 
him. Captain Bonneville had secret intelligence that the sup- 
plies were on their way, and would soon arrive ; he hoped, how- 
ever, by a prompt move, to anticipate their arrival, and secure 
the market to himself. Throwing himself, therefore, among the 
Indians, he opened his packs of merchandise and displayed the 
most tempting wares : bright cloths, and scarlet blankets, and 
glittering ornaments, and everything gay and glorious in the 
eyes of warrior or squaw ; all, however, was in vain. The Hud- 
son's Bay trader was a perfect master of his business, thor- 
rougly acquainted with the Indians he had to deal with, and 
held such control over them that none dared to act openly in 
opposition to his wishes ; nay, more — he came nigh turning the 
tables upon the captain, and shaking the allegiance of some 
of his free trappers, by distributing liquors among them. The 
latter, therefore, was glad to give up a competition, where the 
war was likely to be carried into his own camp. 

In fact, the traders of the Hudson's Bay Company have ad- 
vantages over all competitors in the trade beyond the Rocky 
Mountains. That huge monopoly centres within itself not 
merely its own hereditary and long-established power and in- 
fluence ; but also those of its ancient rival, but now integral 
part, the famous Northwest Company. It has thus its races of 
traders, trappers, hunters, and voyageurs, born and brought 
up in its service, and inheriting from preceding generations # 



122 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

knowledge and aptitude in everything connected with Indian 
life, and Indian traffic. In the process of years, this company 
has been enabled to spread its ramifications in every direction- 
its system of intercourse is founded upon a long and intimate 
knowledge of the character and necessities of the various tribes ■ 
and of all the fastnesses, defiles, and favorable hunting grounds 
of the country. Their capital, also, and the manner in which 
their supplies are distributed at various posts, or forwarded by 
regular caravans, keep their traders well supplied, and enable 
them to furnish their goods to the Indians at a cheap rate. 
Their men, too, being chiefly drawn from the Canadas, where 
they enjoy great influence and control, are engaged at the most 
trifling wages, and supported at little cost; the provisions 
which they take with them being little more than Indian corn 
and grease. They are brought also into the most perfect dis- 
cipline and subordination, especially when their leaders have 
once got them to their scene of action in the heart of the wil- 
derness. 

These circumstances combine to give the leaders of the Hud- 
son's Bay Company a decided advantage over all the American 
companies that come within their range; so that any close 
competition with them is almost hopeless. 

Shortly after Captain Bonneville's ineffectual attempt to 
participate in the trade of the associated camp, the supplies of 
the Hudson's Bay Company arrived ; and the resident trader 
was enabled to monopolize the market. 

It was now the beginning of July; in the latter part of which 
month Captain Bonneville had appointed a rendezvous at Hor§e 
Creek in Green Eiver valley, with some of the parties which 
he had detached in the preceding year. He now turned his 
thoughts in that direction, and prepared for the journey. 

The Cottonois were anxious for him to proceed at once to 
their country ; which, they assured him, abounded in beaver. 
The lands of this tribe lie immediately north of those of the 
Flatheads and are open to the inroads of the Blackfeet. It is 
true, the latter professed to be their allies ; but they had been 
guilty of so many acts of perfidy, that the Cottonois had, lat- 
terly, renounced their hollow friendship and attached them- 
selves to the Flatheads and Nez Perces. These they had accom- 
panied in their migrations rather than remain alone at home, 
exposed to the outrages of the Blackfeet. They were now ap- 
prehensive that these marauders would range their country 
during their absence and destroy the beaver; this was their 



ADVENTUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 5^3 

reason for urging Captain Bonneville to make it his autumnal 
hunting ground. The latter, however, was not to be tempted; 
his engagements required his presence at the rendezvous in 
Green River valley ; and he had already formed his ulterior 
plans. 

An unexpected difficulty now arose. The free trappers sud- 
denly made a stand, and declined to accompany him. It was 
a long and weary journey ; the route lay through Pierre's Hole, 
and other mountain passes infested by the Blackfeet, and re- 
cently the scenes of sanguinary conflicts. They were not dis- 
posed to undertake such unnecessary toils and dangers, when 
they had good and secure trapping grounds nearer at hand, on 
the head- waters of Salmon River. 

As these were free and independent fellows, whose will and 
whim were apt to be law — who had the whole wilderness be- 
fore them, " where to choose," and the trader of a rival com- 
pany at hand, ready to pay for their services — it was necessary 
to bend to their wishes. Captain Bonneville fitted them out, 
therefore, for the hunting ground in question; appointing Mr. 
Hodgkiss to act as their partisan, or leader, and fixing a ren- 
dezvous where he should meet them in the course of the ensu- 
ing winter. The brigade consisted of twenty-one free trappers 
and four or five hired men as camp-keepers. This was not the 
exact arrangement of a trapping party ; which when accurately 
organized is composed of two thirds trappers whose duty leads 
them continually abroad in pursuit of game; and one third 
camp-keepers who cook, pack, and unpack; set up the tents, 
take care of the horses and do all other duties usually assigned 
by the Indians to their women. This part of the service is apt 
to be fulfilled by French Creoles from Canada and the valley of 
the Mississippi. 

In the meantime the associated Indians having completed 
their trade and received their supplies, were all ready to dis* 
perse in various directions. As there was a formidable band 
of Blackfeet just over a mountain to the northeast, by which 
Hodgkiss and his free trappers would have to pass ; and as it 
was known that those sharp-sighted marauders had their 
scouts out watching every movement of the encampments, so 
as to cut off stragglers or weak detachments, Captain Bonne- 
ville prevailed upon the Nez Perces to accompany Hodgkiss 
and his party until they should be beyond the range of the 
enemy. 

The Cottonois and the Pends Oreilles determined to move 



124 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

together at the same time, and to pass close under the moun- 
tain infested by the Blackf eet ; while Captain Bonneville, with 
his party, was to strike in an opposite direction to the south- 
east, bending his course for Pierre's Hole, on his way to Green 
Eiver. 

Accordingly, on the 6th of July, all the camps were raised at 
the same moment ; each party taking its separate route. The 
scene was wild and picturesque ; the long line of traders, trap- 
pers, and Indians, with their rugged and fantastic dresses and 
accoutrements ; their varied weapons, their innumerable 
horses, some under the saddle, some burdened with packages, 
others following in droves; all stretching in lengthening caval- 
cades across the vast landscape, and making for different 
points of the plains and mountains. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

PRECAUTIONS IN DANGEROUS DEFILES— TRAPPERS' MODE OF 
DEFENCE ON A PRAIRIE — A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR — ARRIVAL IN 
GREEN RIVER VALLEY— ADVENTURES OF THE DETACHMENTS — 
THE FORLORN PARTISAN— HIS TALE OF DISASTERS. 

As the route of Captain Bonneville lay through what was 
considered the most perilous part of this region of dangers, he 
took all his measures with military skill, and observed the 
strictest circumspection. When on the march, a small scout- 
ing party was thrown in the advance to reconnoitre the coun- 
try through which they were to pass. The encampments were 
selected with great care, and a watch was kept up night and 
day. The horses were brought in and picketed at night, and 
at daybreak a party was sent out to scour the neighborhood for 
half a mile round, beating up every grove and thicket that 
could give shelter to a lurking foe. When all was reported 
safe, the horses were cast loose and turned out to graze. Were 
such precautions generally observed by traders and hunters, 
we should not so often hear of parties being surprised by the 
Indians. 

Having stated the military arrangements of the captain, we 
may here mention a mode of defence on the open prairie, 
which we have heard from a veteran in the Indian trade. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 125 

When a party. of trappers is on a journey with a convoy of 
goods or peltries, every man has three pack-horses under his 
care ; each horse laden with three packs. Every man is pro- 
vided with a picket with an iron head, a mallet, and hobbles, 
or leathern fetters for the horses. The trappers proceed across 
the prairie in a long line ; or sometimes three parallel lines, 
sufficiently distant from each other to prevent the packs from 
interfering. At an alarm, when there is no covert at hand, 
the line wheels so as to bring the front to the rear and form 
a circle. All then dismount, drive their pickets into the 
ground in the centre, fasten the horses to them, and hobble 
their forelegs, so that, in case of alarm, they cannot break 
away. Then they unload them, and dispose of their packs as 
breastworks on the periphery of the circle ; each man having 
nine packs behind which to shelter himself. In this promptly- 
formed fortress, they await the assault of the enemy, and are 
enabled to set large bands of Indians at defiance. 

The first night of his march, Captain Bonneville encamped 
upon Henry's Fork ; an upper branch of Snake Eiver, called 
after the first American trader that erected a fort beyond the 
mountains. About an hour after all hands had come to a 
halt the clatter of hoofs was heard, and a solitary female, of 
the Nez Perce tribe, came galloping up. She was mounted 
on a mustang or half wild horse, which she managed by a 
long rope hitched round the under jaw by way of bridle. 
Dismounting, she walked silently into the midst of the camp, 
and there seated herself on the ground, still holding her horse 
by the long halter. 

The sudden and lonely apparition of this woman, and her 
calm yet resolute demeanor, awakened universal curiosity. 
The hunters and trappers gathered round, and gazed on her 
as something mysterious. She remained silent, but main- 
tained her air of calmness and self-possession. Captain Bonne- 
ville approached and interrogated her as to the object of her 
mysterious visit. Her answer was brief but earnest — " I love 
the whites — I will go with them." She was forthwith invited 
to a lodge, of which she readily took possession, and from that 
time forward was considered one of the camp. 

In consequence, very probably, of the military precautions 
of Captain Bonneville, he conducted his party in safety 
through this hazardous region. No accident of a disastrous 
kind occurred, excepting the loss of a horse, which, in passing 
along the giddy edge of a precipice, called the Cornice, a dan- 



126 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

gerous pass between Jackson's and Pierre's Hole, fell over the 
brink, and was dashed to pieces. 

On the 13th of July (1833), Captain Bonneville arrived at 
Green Eiver. As he entered the valley, he beheld it strewed in 
every direction with the carcasses of buffaloes. It was evident 
that Indians had recently been there, and in great numbers. 
Alarmed at this sight, he came to a halt, and as soon as it was 
dark, sent out spies to his place of rendezvous on Horse Creek, 
where he had expected to meet with his detached parties of 
trappers on the following day. Early in the morning the spies 
made their appearance in the camp, and with them came three 
trappers of one of his bands, from the rendezvous, who told 
him his people were all there expecting him. As to the 
slaughter among the buffaloes, it had been made by a friendly 
band of Shoshonies, who had fallen in with one of his trapping 
parties, and accompanied them to the rendezvous. Having 
imparted this intelligence, the three worthies from the ren- 
dezvous broached a small keg of " alcohol, " which they had 
brought with them, to enliven this merry meeting. The liquor 
went briskly round ; all absent friends wera toasted, and the 
party moved forward to the rendezvous in high spirits. 

The meeting of associated bands, who have been separated 
from each other on these hazardous enterprises, is always in- 
teresting; each having its tales of perils and adventures to 
relate. Such was the case with the various detachments of 
Captain Bonneville's company, thus brought together on Horse 
Creek. Here was the detachment of fifty men which he had 
sent from Salmon Eiver, in the preceding month of November, 
to winter on Snake Eiver. They had met with many crosses 
and losses in the course of their spring hunt, not so much from 
Indians as from white men. They had come in competition 
with rival trapping parties, particularly one belonging to the 
Eocky Mountain Fur Company ; and they had long stories to 
relate of their manoeuvres to forestall or distress each other. 
In fact, in these virulent and sordid competitions, the trappers 
of each party were more intent upon injuring their rivals^ 
than benefitting themselves ; breaking each other's traps, tramp- 
ling and tearing to pieces the beaver lodges, and doing every- 
thing in their power to mar the success of the hunt. We for- 
bear to detail these pitiful contentions. 

The most lamentable tale of disasters, however, that Captain 
Bonneville had to hear, was from a partisan, whom he had 
detached in the preceding year, with twenty men, to hunt 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 12? 

through the outskirts of the Crow country, and on the tribu- 
tary streams of the Yellowstone; whence he was to proceed 
and join him in his winter quarters on Salmon Eiver. This 
partisan appeared at the rendezvous without his party, and a 
sorrowful tale of disasters had he to relate. In hunting the 
Crow country, he fell in with a village of that tribe ; notorious 
rogues, jockeys, and horse stealers, and errant scamperers of 
the mountains. These decoyed most of his men to desert, and 
^arry off horses, traps, and accoutrements. When he at- 
tempted to retake the deserters, the Crow warriors ruffled up 
to him and declared the deserters were their good friends, had 
determined to remain among them, and should not be mo- 
lested. The poor partisan, therefore, was fain to leave his 
vagabonds among these birds of their own feather, and being 
too weak in numbers to attempt the dangerous pass across the 
mountains to meet Captain Bonneville on Salmon Eiver, he 
made, with the few that remained faithful to him, for the 
neighborhood of Tullock's Fort, on the Yellowstone, under the 
protection of which he went into winter quarters. 

He soon found out that the neighborhood of the fort was 
nearly as bad as the neighborhood of the Crows. His men 
were continually stealing away thither, with whatever beaver 
skins they could secrete or lay their hands on. These they 
would exchange with the hangers-on of the fort for whiskey, 
and then revel in drunkenness and debauchery. 

The unlucky partisan made another move. Associating with 
his party a few free trappers, whom he met with in this neigh- 
borhood, he started off early in the spring to trap on the head 
waters of Powder Eiver. In the course of the journey, his 
horses were so much jaded in traversing a steep mountain, 
that he was induced to turn them loose to graze during the 
night. The place was lonely ; the path was rugged ; there was 
not the sign of an Indian in the neighborhood ; not a blade of 
grass that had been turned by a footstep. But who can calcu- 
late on security in the midst of the Indian country, where the 
foe lurks in silence and secrecy, and seems to come and go on 
the wings of the wind? The horses had scarce been turned 
loose, when a couple of Arickara (or Eickaree) warriors en- 
tered the camp. They affected a frank and friendly demeanor ; 
but their appearance and movements awakened the suspicions 
of some of the veteran trappers, well versed in Indian wiles. 
Convinced that they were spies sent on some sinister errand, 
they took them in custody, and set to work to drive in the 



128 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

horses. It was too late — the horses were already gone. In 
fact, a war party of Arickaras had been hovering on their trail 
for several days, watching with the patience and perseverance 
of Indians, for some moment of negligence and fancied secu- 
rity, to make a successful swoop. The two spies had evidently 
been sent into the camp to create a diversion, while their con- 
federates carried off the spoil. 

The unlucky partisan, thus robbed of his horses, turned furi- 
ously on his prisoners, ordered them to be bound hand and 
foot, and swore to put them to death unless his property were 
restored. The robbers, who soon found that their spies were 
in captivity, now made their appearance on horseback, and 
held a parley. The sight of them, mounted on the very horses 
they had stolen, set the blood of the mountaineers in a fer- 
ment ; but it was useless to attack them, as they would have 
but to turn tfeeir steeds and scamper out of the reach of pedes- 
trians. A negotiation was now attempted. The Arickaras 
offered what they considered fair terms ; to barter one horse, 
or even two horses, for a prisoner. The mountaineers spurned 
at their offer, and declared that, unless all the horses were re- 
linquished, the prisoners should be burnt to death. To give 
force to their threat, a pyre of logs and fagots was heaped up 
and kindled into a blaze. 

The parley continued; the Arickaras released one horse and 
then another, in earnest of their proposition ; finding, however, 
that nothing short of the relinquishment of all their spoils 
would purchase the lives of the captives, they abandoned them 
to their fate, moving off with many parting words and lament- 
able bowlings. The prisoners seeing them depart, and know- 
ing the horrible fate that awaited them, made a desperate 
effort to escape. They partially succeeded, but were severely 
wounded and retaken ; then dragged to the blazing pyre, and 
burnt to death in the sight of their retreating comrades. 

Such are the savage cruelties that white men learn to prac- 
tise, who mingle in savage life; and such are the acts that lead 
to terrible recrimination on the part of the Indians. Should 
we hear of any atrocities committed by the Arickaras upon 
captive white men, let this signal and recent provocation be 
borne in mind. Individual cases of the kind dwell in the recol- 
lections of whole tribes ; and it is a point of honor and con- 
science to revenge them. 

The loss of his horses completed the ruin of the unlucky par- 
tisan. It was out of his power to prosecute his hunting, or to 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 129 

maintain his party : the only thought now was how to get back 
to civilized lif e. At the first water-course, his men built canoes, 
and committed themselves to the stream. Some engaged them- 
selves at various trading establishments at which they touched, 
others got back to the settlements. As" to the partisan, he found 
an opportunity to make his way to the rendezvous at Green 
River valley ; which he reached in time to render to Captain 
Bonneville this forlorn account of his misadventures. 



CHAPTER XX. 

FATHERING IN GREEN RIVER VALLEY— VISITINGS AND FEASTINGS 
OF LEADERS — ROUGH WASSAILING AMONG THE TRAPPERS — 
WILD BLADES OF THE MOUNTAINS — INDIAN BELLES— POTENCY 
OF BRIGHT BEADS AND RED BLANKETS — ARRIVAL OF SUPPLIES 
— REVELRY AND EXTRAVAGANCE — MAD WOLVES — THE LOST 
INDIAN. 

The Green River valley was at this time the scene of one of 
those general gatherings of traders, trappers, and Indians, that 
we have already mentioned. The three rival companies, which, 
for a year past had been endeavoring to out-trade, out-trap, 
and outwit each other, were here encamped in close proximity, 
awaiting their annual supplies. About four miles from the 
rendezvous of Captain Bonneville was that of the American 
Fur Company, hard by which, was that also of the Rocky 
Mountain Fur Company. 

After the eager rivalry and almost hostility displayed by 
these companies in their late campaigns, it might be expected 
that, when thus brought in juxtaposition, they would hold 
themselves warily and sternly aloof from each other, and, 
should they happen to come in contact, brawl and bloodshed 
would ensue. 

No such thing ! Never did rival lawyers after a wrangle at 
the bar meet with more social good-humor at a circuit dinner. 
The hunting season over, all past tricks and manoeuvres are 
forgotten, all feuds and bickerings buried in oblivion. From 
the middle of June to the middle of September, all trapping is 
suspended ; for the beavers are then shedding their furs and 
their skins are of little value. This, then, is the trapper's hoK- 



130 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

day when he is all for fun and frolic, and ready for a satur- 
nalia among the mountains. 

At the present season, too, all parties were in good humor. 
The year had been productive. Competition, by threatening 
to lessen their profits, had quickened their wits, roused their 
energies, and made them turn every favorable chance to the 
best advantage; so that, on assembling at their respective 
places of rendezvous, each company found itself in possession 
of a rich stock of peltries. 

The leaders of the different companies, therefore, mingled on 
terms of perfect good-fellowship ; interchanging visits, and re- 
galing each other in the best style their respective camps af- 
forded. But the rich treat for the worthy captain was to see 
the ' ' chivalry" of the various encampments engaged in contests 
of skill at running, jumping, wrestling, shooting with the rifle, 
and running horses. And then their rough hunters' feasting^ 
and carousals. They drank together, they sang, they laughed, 
they whooped; they tried to outbrag and outlie each other ir* 
stories of their adventures and achievements. Here the free 
trappers were in all their glory; they considered themselves 
the " cocks of the walk," and always carried the highest crests. 
Now and then familiarity was pushed too far, and would effer- 
vesce into a brawl, and a " rough and tumble" fight; but it all 
ended in cordial reconciliation and maudlin endearment. 

The presence of the Shoshonie tribe contributed occasionally 
to cause temporary jealousies and feuds. The Shoshonie beau- 
ties became objects of rivalry among some of the amorous 
mountaineers. Happy was the trapper who could muster up a 
red blanket, a string of gay beads, or a paper of precious ver- 
milion, with which to win the smiles of a Shoshonie fair one. 

The caravans of supplies arrived at the valley just at this 
period of gallantry and good-fellowship. Now commenced a 
scene of eager competition and wild prodigality at the different 
encampments. Bales were hastily ripped open, and their motley 
contents poured forth. A mania for purchasing spread itself 
throughout the several bands — munitions for war, for hunting, 
for gallantry, were seized upon with equal avidity — rifles, 
hunting knives, traps, scarlet cloth, red blankets, garish beads, 
and glittering trinkets, were bought at any price, and scores 
run up without any thought how they were ever to be rubbed 
off. The free trappers especially were extravagant in their 
purchases. For a free mountaineer to pause at a paltry con-' 
sideration of dollars and cents, m the attainment of any object 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 131 

that might strike his fancy, would stamp him with the mark 
of the beast in the estimation of his comrades. For a trader to 
refuse one of these free and flourishing blades a credit, what- 
ever unpaid scores might stare him in the face, would be a fla- 
grant affront, scarcely to be forgiven. 

Now succeeded another outbreak of revelry and extrava- 
gance. The trappers were newly fitted out and arrayed, and 
dashed about with their horses caparisoned in Indian style. 
The Shoshonie beauties also flaunted about in all the colors ol 
the rainbow. Every freak of prodigality was indulged to its 
fullest extent, and in a little while most of the trappers, having 
squandered away all their wages, and perhaps run knee-deep 
in debt, were ready for another hard campaign in the wilder- 
ness. 

During this season of folly and frolic, there was an alarm of 
mad wolves in the two lower camps. One or more of these 
animals entered the camps for three nights successively, and 
bit several of the people. 

Captain Bonneville relates the case of an Indian who was a 
universal favorite in the lower camp. He had been bitten by 
one of these animals. Being out with a party shortly afterward 
he grew silent and gloomy, and lagged behind the rest, as if 
he wished to leave them. They halted and urged him to move 
faster, but he entreated them not to approach him, and, leap- 
ing from his horse, began to roll frantically on the earth, gnash- 
ing his teeth and foaming at the mouth. Still he retained his 
senses, and warned his companions not to come near him, as 
he should not be able to restrain himself from biting them. 
They hurried off to obtain relief ; but on their return he was 
nowhere to be found. His horse and his accoutrements re- 
mained upon the spot. Three or four days afterward, a soli- 
tary Indian, believed to be the same, was observed crossing a 
valley, and pursued ; but he darted away into the fastnesses of 
the mountains, and was seen no more. 

Another instance we have from a different person who was 
present in the encampment. One of the men of the Rocky 
Mountain Fur Company had been bitten. He set out shortly 
afterward in company with two white men, on his return to the 
settlements. In the course of a few days he showed symptoms 
of hydrophobia, and became raving toward night. At length, 
breaking away from his companions, he rushed into a thicket 
of w/illows, where they ]eft him to his fate ! 



132 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

SCHEMES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE— THE GREAT SALT LAKE — EX- 
PEDITION TO EXPLORE IT — PREPARATIONS FOR A JOURNEY TO 
THE BIGHORN. 

Captain Bonneville now found himself at the head of a 
hardy, well-seasoned and well-appointed company of trappers, 
all benefited by at least one year's experience among the moun- 
tains, and capable of protecting themselves from Indian wiles 
and stratagems, and of providing for their subsistence wherever 
game was to be found. He had, also, an excellent troop of 
horses, in prime condition, and fit for hard service. He deter- 
mined, therefore, to strike out into some of the bolder parts of 
his scheme. One of these was to carry hist expeditions into 
some of the unknown tracts of the Far West, beyond what is 
generally termed the buffalo range. This would have some- 
thing of the merit and charm of discovery, so dear to every 
brave and adventurous spirit. Another favorite project was 
to establish a trading post on the lower part of the Columbia 
Eiver, near the Multnomah valley, and to endeavor to re- 
trieve for his country some of the lost trade of Astoria. 

The first of the above mentioned views was, at present, 
uppermost in his mind — the exploring of unknown regions. 
Among the grand features of the wilderness about which he 
was roaming, one had made a vivid impression on his mind, 
and been clothed by his imagination with vague and ideal 
charms. This is a great lake of salt water, laving the feet of the 
mountains, but extending far to the west-southwest, into one 
of those vast and elevated plateaus of land, which range high 
above the level of the Pacific. 

Captain Bonneville gives a striking account of the lake when 
seen from the land. As you ascend the mountains about its 
shores, says he, you behold this immense body of water spread- 
ing itself before you, and stretching further and further, in one 
wide and far-reaching expanse, until the eye, wearied with 
continued and strained attention, rests in the blue dimness of 
distance, upon lofty ranges of mountains, confidently asserted 
to rise from the bosom of the waters. Nearer to you, the 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 133 

smooth and unruffled surface is studded with little islands, 
where the mountain sheep roam in considerable numbers. 
What extent of lowland may be encompassed by the high 
peaks beyond, must remain for the present matter of mere 
conjecture; though from the form of the summits, and the 
breaks which may be discovered among them, there can be 
little doubt that they are the sources of streams calculated to 
water large tracts, which are probably concealed from view by 
the rotundity of the lake's surface. At some future day, in 
all probability, the rich harvest of beaver fur, which may be 
reasonably anticipated in such a spot, will tempt adventurers 
to reduce all this doubtful region to the palpable certainty of a 
beaten track. At present, however, destitute of the means of 
making boats, the trapper stands upon the shore, and gazes 
upon a promised land which his feet are never to tread. 

Such is the somewhat fanciful view which Captain Bonne- 
ville gives of this great body of water. He has evidently 
taken part of his ideas concerning it from the representations 
of others, who have somewhat exaggerated its features. It is 
reported to be about one hundred and fifty miles long, and 
fifty miles broad. The ranges of mountain peaks which Cap- 
tain Bonneville speaks of, as rising from its bosom, are prob- 
ably the summits of mountains beyond it, which may be 
visible at a vast distance, when viewed from an eminence, in the 
transparent atmosphere of these lofty regions. Several large 
islands certainly exist in the lake ; one of which is said to be 
mountainous, but not by any means to the extent required to 
furnish the series of peaks above mentioned. 

Captain Sublette, in one of his early expeditions across the 
mountains, is said to have sent four men in a skin canoe, to 
explore the lake, who professed to have navigated all round it ; 
but to have suffered excessively* from thirst, the water of the 
lake being extremely salt, and there being no fresh streams 
running into it. 

Captain Bonneville doubts this report, or that the men ac- 
complished the circumnavigation, because, he says, the lake 
receives several large streams from the mountains which 
bound it to the east. In the spring, when the streams are 
swollen by rain and by the melting of the snows, the lake rises 
several feet above its ordinary level; during the summer, it 
gradually subsides again, leaving a sparkling zone of the finest 
salt upon its shores. 

The elevation of the vast plateau on which this lake is situ- 



134 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

ated, is estimated by Captain Bonneville at one and three 
fourths of a mile above the level of the ocean. The admirable 
purity and transparency of the atmosphere in this region, al- 
lowing objects to be seen, and the report of firearms to be 
heard at an astonishing distance; and its extreme dryness, 
causing the wheels of wagons to fall in pieces, as instanced in 
former passages of this work, are proofs of the great altitude 
of the Eocky Mountain plains. That a body of salt water 
should exist at such a height, is cited as a singular phenome- 
non by Captain Bonneville, though the salt lake of Mexico is 
not much inferior in elevation.* 

To have this lake properly explored, and all its secrets re- 
vealed, was the grand scheme of the captain for the present 
year ; and while it was one in which his imagination evidently 
took a leading part, he believed it would be attended with great 
profit, from the numerous beaver streams with which the lake 
must be fringed. 

This momentous undertaking he confided to his lieutenant, 
Mr. Walker, in whose experience and ability he had great con- 
fidence. He instructed him to keep along the shores of the 
lake, and trap in all the streams on his route ; also to keep a 
journal, and minutely to record the events of his journey, and 
everything curious or interesting, making maps or charts of 
his route, and of the surrounding country. 

No pains nor expense were sparetM.2 fitting out the party, of 
forty men, which he was to command. They had complete 
supplies for a year, and were to meet Captain Bonneville in 
the ensuing summer, in the valley of Bear Eiver, the largest 
tributary of the Salt Lake, which was to be his point of general 
rendezvous. 

The next care of Captain Bonneville, was to arrange for the 
safe transportation of the peltries which he had collected, to 
the Atlantic States. Mr. Eobert Campbell, the partner of Sub- 
lette, was at this time in the rendezvous of the Eocky Moun- 
tain Fur Company, having brought up their supplies. He was 
about to set off on his return, with the peltries collected during 
the year, and intended to proceed through the Crow country, 
to the head of navigation on the Bighorn Eiver, and to descend 



* The lake of Tezcuco, which surrounds the city of Mexico, the largest and lowest 
of the five lakes in the Mexican plateau, and one of the most impregnated with saline 
particles, is seven thousand four hundred and sixty-eight feet, or nearly one mile 
and a half above the level of the sea. 



ADVENTUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 135 

in boats down that river, the Missouri, and the Yellowstone, to 
St. Louis. 

Captain Bonneville determined to forward his peltries by 
the same route, under the especial care of Mr. Cerre. By way 
of escort, he would accompany Cerre to the point of embarka- 
tion and then make an autumnal hunt in the Crow country 



CHAPTER XXII. 

THE CROW COUNTRY — A CROW PARADISE— HABITS OF THE CROWS 
— ANECDOTES OF ROSE, THE RENEGADE WHITE MAN — HIS FIGHTS 
WITH THE BLACKFEET — HIS ELEVATION— HIS DEATH— ARAPOO- 
ISH, THE CROW CHIEF — HIS EAGLE— ADVENTURE OF ROBERT 
CAMPBELL— HONOR AMONG CROWS. 

Before we accompany Captain Bonneville into the Crow 
country, we will impart a few facts about this wild region^ 
and the wild people who inhabit it. We are not aware of the 
precise boundaries, if there are any, of the country claimed by 
the Crows ; it appears to extend from the Black Hills to the 
Rocky Mountains, including a part of their lofty ranges, and 
embracing many of the plains and valleys watered by the 
"Wind River, the Yellowstone, the Powder River, the Little 
Missouri, and the Nebraska. The country varies in soil and 
climate ; there are vast plains of sand and clay, studded with 
large red sand-hills; other parts are mountainous and pictu- 
resque ; it possesses warm springs, and coal mines, and abounds 
with game. 

But let us give the account of the country as rendered by 
Arapooish, a Crow chief, to Mr. Robert Campbell, of the 
Rocky Mountain Fur Company. 

u The Crow country," said he, "is a good country. The 
Great Spirit has put it exactly in the right place ; while you 
are in it you fare well ; whenever you go out of it, whichever 
way you travel, you fare worse. 

"If you go to the south you have to wander over great 
barren plains ; the water is warm and bad, and you meet the 
fever and ague. 

"To the north it is cold; the winters are long: and bitter, 



136 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

with no grass ; you cannot keep horses there, but must travel 
with dogs. What is a country without horses? 

" On the Columbia they are poor and dirty, paddle about in 
canoes, and eat fish. Their teeth are worn out; they are al- 
ways taking fish-bones out of their mouths. Fish is poor food. 

" To the east, they dwell in villages ; they live well ; but they 
drink the muddy water of the Missouri— that is bad. A 
Crow's dog would not drink such water. 

" About the forks of the Missouri is a fine country; good 
water; good grass; plenty of buffalo. In summer, it is almost 
as good as the Crow country; but in winter it is cold; the 
grass is gone ; and there is no salt weed for the horses. 

"The Crow country is exactly in the right place. It has 
snowy mountains and sunny plains; all kinds of climates 
and good things for every season. When the summer heats 
scorch the prairies, you can draw up under the mountains? 
where the air is sweet and cool, the grass fresh, and the bright 
streams come tumbling out of the snow-banks. There you 
can hunt the elk, the deer, and the antelope, when their skins 
are fit for dressing ; there you will find plenty of white bears 
and mountain sheep. 

" In the autumn, when your horses are fat and strong from 
the mountain pastures, you can go down into the plains and 
hunt the buffalo, or trap beaver on the streams. And when 
winter comes on, you can take shelter in the woody bottoms 
along the rivers ; there you will find buffalo meat for your- 
selves, and cotton- wood bark for your horses; or you may 
winter in the Wind Eiver valley, where there is salt weed in 
abundance. 

" The Crow country is exactly in the right place. Every- 
thing good is to be found there. There is no country like the 
Crow country." 
Such is the eulogium on his country by Arapooish. ( 

We have had repeated occasions to speak of the restless and) 
predatory habits of the Crows. They can muster fifteen hun- ' 
dred fighting men ; but their incessant wars with the Black- 
feet, and their vagabond, predatory habits, are gradually 
wearing them out. 

In a recent work, we related the circumstance of a white 
man named Eose, an outlaw, and a designing vagabond, who 
acted as guide and interpreter to Mr. Hunt and his party, on 
their journey across the mountains to Astoria, who came near 
betraying them into the hand^ of the Crows, and who re- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 137 

mained among the tribe, marrying one of their women, and 
adopting their congenial habits. * A few anecdotes of the sub- 
sequent fortunes of that renegade may not be uninteresting, 
especially as they are connected with the fortunes of the 
tribe. 

Rose was powerful in frame and fearless in spirit ; and soon 
by his daring deeds took his rank among the first braves of 
the tribe. He aspired to command, and knew it was only to 
be attained by desperate exploits. He distinguished himself in 
repeated actions with Blackfeet. On one occasion, a band of 
those savages had fortified themselves within a breastwork, 
and could not be harmed. Rose proposed to storm the work. 
" Who will take the lead?" was the demand. "If cried he; 
and putting himself at their head, rushed forward. ' The first 
Blackfoot that opposed him he shot down with his rifle, and 
snatching up the war-club of his victim killed four others 
within the fort. The victory was complete, and Rose returned 
to the Crow village covered with glory, and bearing five Black- 
foot scalps, to be erected as a trophy before his lodge. From 
this time he was known among the Crows by the name 
of Che-ku-kaats, or "the man who killed five." He became 
chief of the village, or rather band, and for a time was the 
popular idol. His popularity soon awakened envy among the 
native braves ; he was a stranger, an intruder ; a white man. 
A party seceded from his command. Feuds and civil wars 
succeeded that lasted for two or three years, until Rose, hav- 
ing contrived to set his adopted brethren by the ears, left 
them, and went down the Missouri in 1823 Here he fell in 
with one of the earliest trapping expeditions sent by General 
Ashley across the mountains. It was conducted by Smith, 
Fitzpatrick, and Sublette. Rose enlisted with them as guide 
and interpreter. When he got them among the Crows, he 
was exceedingly generous with their goods ; making presents 
to the braves of his adopted tribe, as became a high-minded 
chief. 

This doubtless, helped to revive his popularity. In that ex- 
pedition, Smith and Fitzpatrick were robbed of their horses in 
Green River valley; the place where the robbery took place 
still bears the name of Horse Creek. We are not informed 
whether the horses were stolen through the instigation and 
management of Rose; it is not improbable, for such was the 

* See Astoria. 



138 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

perfidy he had intended to practise on a former occasion 
toward Mr. Hunt and his party. 

The last anecdote we have of Eose is from an Indian trader. 
When General Atkinson made his military expedition up the 
Missouri, in 1825, to protect the fur trade, he held a conference 
with the Crow nation, at which Rose figured as Indian dig- 
nitary and Crow interpreter. The military were stationed at 
some little distance from the scene of the "big talk." While 
the general and the chiefs were smoking pipes and making 
speeches, the officers, supposing all was friendly, left the 
troops and drew near the scene of ceremonial. Some of the 
more knowing Crows, perceiving this, stole quietly to the 
camp, and, unobserved, contrived to stop the touch-holes of 
the field pieces with dirt. Shortly after a misunderstanding 
occurred in the conference ; some of the Indians knowing the 
cannon to be useless, became insolent. A tumult arose. In 
the confusion Colonel O'Fallan snapped a pistol in the face of 
a brave, and knocked him down with the butt end. The 
Crows were all in a fury. A chance medley fight was on the 
point of taking place, when Rose, his natural sympathies as a 
white man suddenly recurring, broke the stock of his fusee 
over the head of a Crow warrior, and laid so vigorously about 
him with the barrel, that he soon put the whole throng to 
flight. Luckily, as no lives had been lost, this sturdy rib- 
roasting calmed the fury of the Crows, and the tumult ended 
without serious consequences. 

What was the ultimate fate of this vagabond hero is not 
distinctly known. Some report him to have fallen a victim to 
disease, brought on by his licentious fife ; others assert that he 
was murdered in a feud among the Crows. After all, his resi- 
dence among these savages, and the influence he acquired over 
them had, for a time, some beneficial effects. He is said, not 
merely to have rendered them more formidable to the Black- 
feet, but to have opened their eyes to the policy of cultivating 
the friendship of the white men. 

After Rose's death, his policy continued to be cultivated, 
with indifferent success, by Arapooish, the chief already men- 
tioned, who had been his great friend, and whose character he 
had contributed to develope. This sagacious chief endeavored, 
on every occasion, to restrain the predatory propensities of his 
tribe when directed against the white men. "If we keep 
friends with them," said he, "we have nothing to fear from 
the Blackfeet, and can rule the mountains." Arapooish pre- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 139 

tended to be a great "medicine man;" a character among the 
Indians which is a compound of priest, doctor, prophet, and 
conjurer. He carried about with him a tame eagle, as his 
" medicine," or familiar. With the white men, he acknowl- 
edged that this was all charlatanism ; but said it was necessary, 
to give him weight and influence among his people. 

Mr. Robert Campbell, from whom we have most of these 
facts, in the course of one of his trapping expeditions, was 
quartered in the village of Arapooish, and a guest in the lodge 
of the chieftain. He had collected a large quantity of furs, 
and, fearful of being plundered, deposited but a part in the 
lodge of the chief ; the rest he buried in a cache. One night, 
Arapooish came into the lodge with a cloudy brow, and seated 
himself for a time without saying a word. At length, turning 
to Campbell, "You have more furs with you," said he, " than 
you have brought into my lodge?" 

" I have," replied Campbell. 

"Where are they?" 

Campbell knew the uselessness of any prevarication with an 
Indian; and the importance of complete frankness. He de- 
scribed the exact place where he had concealed his peltries. 

"Tis well," replied Arapooish; "you speak straight. It is 
just as you say. But your cache has been robbed. Go and 
see how many skins have been taken from it." 

Campbell examined the cache, and estimated his loss to be 
about one hundred and fifty beaver skins. Arapooish now 
summoned a meeting of the village. He bitterly reproached 
his people for robbing a stranger who had confided to their 
honor; and commanded that whoever had taken the skins, 
should bring them back ; declaring that, as Campbell was his 
guest and inmate of his lodge, he would not eat nor drink until 
every skin was restored to him. 

The meeting broke up, and every one dispersed. Arapooish 
now charged Campbell to give neither reward nor thanks to 
any one who should bring in the beaver skins, but to keep 
count as they were delivered. 

In a little while the skins began to make their appearance, a 
few at a time; they were laid down in the lodge, and those 
who brought them departed without saying a word. The day 
passed away. Arapooish sat in one corner of his lodge, 
wrapped up in his robe, scarcely moving a muscle of his coun- 
tenance. When night arrived, he demanded if all the skins had 
been brought in. Above a hundred had been given up, and 



140 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

Campbell expressed himself contented. Not so the Crow chief* 
tain. He fasted all that night, nor tasted a drop of water. In 
the morning some more skins were brought in, and continued 
to come, one and two at a time, throughout the day ; until but 
a few were wanting to make the number complete. Campbell 
was now anxious to put an end to this fasting of the old chief, 
and again declared that he was perfectly satisfied. Arapooish 
demanded what number of skins were yet wanting. On being 
told, he whispered to some of his people, who disappeared. 
After a time the number were brought in, though it was evi- 
dent they were not any of the skins that had been stolen, but 
others gleaned in the village. 

"Is all right now?" demanded Arapooish. 

" All is right," replied Campbell. 

4 ' Good ! Now bring me meat and drink !" 

When they were alone together, Arapooish had a conversa- 
tion with his guest. 

"When you come another time among the Crows," said he, 
"don't hide your goods ; trust to them and they will not wrong 
you. Put your goods in the lodge of a chief, and they are 
sacred ; hide them in a cache, and any one who finds will steal 
them. My people have now given up your goods for my sake ; 
but there are some foolish young men in the village who may 
be disposed to be troublesome. Don't linger, therefore, but 
pack your horses and be off." 

Campbell took his advice, and made his way safely out of the 
Crow country. He has ever since maintained that the Crows 
are not so black as they are painted. "Trust to their honor," 
says he, "and you are safe; trust to their honesty, and they 
will steal the hair off your head." 

Having given these few preliminary particulars, we will re- 
sume the course of our narrative. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 141 



CHAPTER XXin. 

DEPARTURE FROM GREEN RIVER VALLEY — POPO AGIE— ITS COURSE 
—THE RIVERS INTO WHICH IT RUNS— SCENERY OF THE BLUFFS 
—THE GREAT TAR SPRING— VOLCANIC TRACTS IN THE CROW 
COUNTRY — BURNING MOUNTAIN OF POWDER RIVER— SULPHUR 
SPRINGS— HIDDEN FIRES— COLTER'S HELL— WIND RIVER— CAMP- 
BELL'S PARTY — FITZPATRICK AND HIS TRAPPERS — CAPTAIN 
STEWART, AN AMATEUR TRAVELLER — NATHANIEL WYETH — 
ANECDOTES OF HIS EXPEDITION TO THE FAR WEST— DISASTER 
OF CAMPBELL'S PARTY— A UNION OF BANDS— THE BAD PASS — 
THE RAPIDS— DEPARTURE OF FITZPATRICK — EMBARKATION OF 
PELTRIES — WYETH AND HIS BULL BOAT — ADVENTURES OF CAP- 
TAIN BONNEVILLE IN THE BIGHORN MOUNTAINS — ADVENTURES 
IN THE PLAIN— TRACES OF INDIANS — TRAVELLING PRECAUTIONS 
—DANGERS OF MAKING A SMOKE— THE RENDEZVOUS. 

On the 25th of July Captain Bonneville struck his tents, and 
set out on his route for the Bighorn, at the head of a party of 
fifty-six men, including those who were to embark with Cerre. 
Crossing the Green River valley, he proceeded along the south 
point of the Wind River range of mountains, and soon fell 
upon the track of Mr. Robert Campbell's party, which had pre- 
ceded him by a day. This he pursued, until he perceived that 
it led down the banks of the Sweet Water to the southeast. 
As this was different from his proposed direction, he left it; 
and turning to the northeast, soon came upon the waters of the 
Popo Agie. This stream takes its rise in the Wind River 
Mountains. Its name, like most Indian names, is characteris- 
tic. Popo, in the Crow language signifying head ; and Agie, 
river. It is the head of a long river, extending from the south 
end of the Wind River Mountains in a northeast direction, 
until it falls into the Yellowstone. Its course is generally 
through plains, but is twice crossed by chains of mountains ; 
the first called the Littlehorn, the second the Bighorn. After 
it has forced its way through the first chain, it is called the 
Horn River. After the second chain it is called the Bighorn 
River. Its passage through this last chain is rough and vio- 
lent ; making repeated falls, and rushing down long and furious 



142 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

rapids, which threaten destruction to the navigator ; though a 
hardy trapper is said to have shot down them in a canoe. At 
the foot of these rapids, is the head of navigation, where it was 
the intention of the parties to construct boats, and embark. 

Proceeding down along the Popo Agie, Captain Bonneville 
came again in full view of the " Bluffs," as they are called, ex- 
tending from the base of the Wind Eiver Mountains far away 
to the east, and presenting to the eye a confusion of hills and 
cliffs of red sandstone, some peaked and angular, some round, 
some broken into crags and precipices, and piled up in fantas- 
tic masses ; but all naked and sterile. There appeared to be no 
soil favorable to vegetation, nothing but coarse gravel; yet, 
over all this isolated, barren landscape, were diffused such at- 
mospherical tints and hues, as to blend the whole into har- 
mony and beauty. 

In this neighborhood, the captain made search for "the 
great Tar Spring," one of the wonders of the mountains; the 
medicinal properties of which, he had heard extravagantly 
lauded by the trappers. After a toilsome search, he found it 
at the foot of a sand-bluff, a little to the east of the Wind 
Eiver Mountains; where it exuded in a small stream of the 
color and consistency of tar. The men immediately hastened 
to collect a quantity of it, to use as an ointment for the galled 
backs of their horses, and as a balsam for their own pains and 
aches. From the description given of it, it is evidently the 
bituminous oil, called petroleum or naphtha, which forms a 
principal ingredient in the potent medicine called British Oil. 
It is found in various parts of Europe and Asia, in several of 
the West India islands, and in some places of the United 
States. In the State of New York, it is called Seneca Oil, from 
being found near the Seneca lake. 

The Crow country has other natural curiosities, which are 
held in superstitious awe by the Indians, and considered great 
marvels by the trappers. Such is the Burning Mountain, on 
Powder Eiver, abounding with anthracite coal. Here the 
earth is hot and cracked ; in many places emitting smoke and 
sulphurous vapors, as if covering concealed fires. A volcanic 
tract of similar character is found on Stinking Eiver, one of the 
tributaries of the Bighorn, which takes its unhappy name from 
the odor derived from sulphurous springs and streams. This 
last mentioned place was first discovered by Colter, a hunter 
belonging to Lewis and Clarke's exploring party, who came 
upon it in the course of his lonely wanderings, and gave such 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 143 

an account of its gloomy terrors, its hidden fires, smoking pits, 
noxious streams, and the all-pervading " smell of brimstone,' 1 
that it received, and has ever since retained among trappers, 
the name of "Colter's HeU I" 

Resuming his descent along the left bank of the Popo Agie, 
Captain Bonneville soon reached the plains ; where he found 
several large streams entering from the west. Among these 
was Wind River, which gives its name to the mountains 
among which it takes its rise. This is one of the most impor- 
tant streams of the Crow country. The river being much 
swollen, Captain Bonneville halted at its mouth, and sent out 
scouts to look for a fording place. While thus encamped, he 
beheld in the course of the afternoon a long line of horsemen 
descending the slope of the hills on the opposite side of the 
Popo Agie. His first idea was, that they were Indians ; he 
soon discovered, however, that they were white men, and, by 
the long line of pack-horses, ascertained them to be the con- 
voy of Campbell, which, having descended the Sweet Water, 
was now on its way to the Horn River. 

The two parties came together two or three days afterward, 
on the 4th of August, after having passed through the gap of 
the Littlehorn Mountain. In company with Campell's convoy, 
was a trapping party of the Rocky Mountain Company, headed 
by Fitzpatrick; who, after Campbell's embarkation on the 
Bighorn, was to take charge of all the horses, and proceed on 
a trapping campaign. There were, moreover, two chance 
companions in the rival camp. One was Captain Stewart, of 
the British army, a gentleman of noble connections, who was 
amusing himself by a wandering tour in the Far West ; in the 
course of which, he had lived in hunter's style ; accompanying 
various bands of traders, trappers, and Indians ; and manifest- 
ing that relish for the wilderness that belongs to men of game 
spirit. 

The other casual inmate of Mr. Campbell's camp was Mr. 
Nathaniel Wyeth; the self -same leader of the band of New 
England salmon fishers, with whom we parted company in the 
valley of Pierre's Hole, after the battle with the Blackfeet. A 
few days after that affair, he again set out from the rendez- 
vous in company with Milton Sublette and his brigade of trap- 
pers. On his march, he visited the battle ground, and pene- 
trated to the deserted fort of the Blackfeet in the midst of the 
wood. It was a dismal scene. The fort was strewed with the 
mouldering bodies of the slain; while vultures soared aloft, or 



144 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

sat brooding on the trees around; and Indian dogs howled 
about the place, as if bewailing the death of their masters. 
Wyeth travelled for a considerable distance to the southwest, 
in company with Milton Sublette, when they separated ; and 
the former, with eleven men, the remnant of his band, pushed 
on for Snake River; kept down the course of that eventful 
stream ; traversed the Blue Mountains, trapping beaver occa 
sionally by the way, and finally, after hardships of all kinds 
arrived on the 29th of October, at Vancouver, on the Colum- 
bia, the main factory of the Hudson's Bay Company. 

He experienced hospitable treatment at the hands of the 
agents of that company ; but his men, heartily tired of wan- 
dering in the wilderness, or tempted by other prospects, re- 
fused, for the most part, to continue any ionger in his service. 
Some set off for the Sandwich Islands ; some entered into other 
employ. Wyeth found, too, that a great part of the goods he 
had brought with him were unfitted for the Indian trade ; in a 
word, his expedition, undertaken entirely on his own resources, 
proved a failure. He lost everything invested in it, but his 
hopes. These were as strong as ever. He took note of every- 
thing, therefore, that could be of service to him in the further 
prosecution of his project ; collected all the information within 
his reach, and then set off, accompanied by merely two men, 
on his return journey across the continent. He had got thus 
far "by hook and by crook," a mode in which a New England 
man can make his way all over the world, and through all 
kinds of difficulties, and was now bound for Boston; in full 
confidence of being able to form a company for the salmon 
fishery and fur trade of the Columbia. 

The party of Mr. Campbell had met with a disaster in the 
course of their route from the Sweet Water. Three or four of 
the men, who were reconnoitring the country in advance of the 
main body, were visited one night in their camp, by fifteen or 
twenty Shoshonies. Considering this tribe as perfectly friend- 
ly, they received them in the most cordial and confiding man- 
ner. In the course of the night, the man on guard near the 
horses fell sound asleep ; upon which a Shoshonie shot him in 
the head, and nearly killed him. The savages then made off 
with the horses, leaving the rest of the party to find their way 
to the main body on foot. 

The rival companies of Captain Bonneville and Mr. Camp- 
bell, thus fortuitously brought together, now prosecuted ti^** 
journey in great good fellowship; forming a joint camp of 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE- 145 

about a hundred men. The captain, however, ^egan to enter- 
tain doubts that Fitzpatrick and his trappers, who kept pro- 
found silence as to their future movements, intended to hunt 
the same grounds w r hich he had selected for his autumnal cam 
paign ; which lay to the west of the Horn River, on its tributary 
streams. In the course of his march, therefore, he secretly de« 
tached a small party of trappers, to make their way to those 
hunting grounds, while he continued on with the main body • 
appointing a rendezvous at the next full moon, about the 28th 
of August, at a place called the Medicine Lodge. 

On reaching the second chain, called the Bighorn Mountains, 
where the river forced its impetuous way through a precipi- 
tous defile, with cascades and rapids, the travellers were 
obliged to leave its banks, and traverse the mountains by a 
rugged and frightful route emphatically called the " Bad Pass." 
Descending the opposite side, they again made for the river 
banks; and about the middle of August, reached the point 
below the rapids, where the river becomes navigable for boats. 
Here Captain Bonneville detached a second party of trappers, 
consisting of ten men, to seek and join those whom he had de- 
tached while on the route, appointing for them the same ren- 
dezvous (at the Medicine Lodge), on the 28th of August. 

All hands now set to work to construct "bull boats," as they 
are technically called ; a light, fragile kind of bark, character- 
istic of the expedients and inventions of the wilderness ; being 
formed of buffalo skins, stretched on frames. They are some- 
times, also, called skin boats. Wyeth was the first ready ; and, 
with his usual promptness and hardihood launched his frail 
bark singly, on this wild and hazardous voyage, down an 
almost interminable succession of rivers, winding through 
countries teeming with savage hordes. Milton Sublette, his 
former fellow traveller, and his companion in the battle scenes 
of Pierre's Hole, took passage in his boat. His crew consisted 
of two white men, and. two Indians. We shall hear further 0! 
Wyeth, and his wild voyage in the course of our wanderings 
about the Far West, 

The remaining parties soon completed their several arma- 
ments. That of Captain Bonneville was composed of three buD 
boats, in which he embarked all his peltries, giving them in 
charge of Mr. Cerre, with a party of thirty -six men. Mr. Camp- 
bell took command of his own boats, and the little squadrons 
w^re soongliding down the bright current of the Bighorn. 

Hie secret precautions which Captain Bonneville had taken 



146 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

to throw his men first into the trapping ground west of the 
Bighorn, were, probably, superfluous. It did not appear that 
Fitzpatrick had intended to hunt in that direction. The mo- 
ment Mr. Campbell and his men embarked with the peltries 
Fitzpatrick took charge of all the horses, amounting to above 
a hundred, and struck off to the east, to trap upon Littlehorn, 
Powder and Tongue Eivers. He was accompanied by Captain 
Stewart, who was desirous of having a range about the Crow 
country. Of the adventures they met with in that region of 
vagabonds and horse stealers, we shall have something to re- 
late hereafter. 

Captain Bonneville being now left to prosecute his trapping 
campaign without rivalry, set out, on the 17th of August, for 
the rendezvous at Medicine Lodge. He had but four men re- 
maining with him, and forty-six horses to take care of; with 
these he had to make his way over mountain and plain, through 
a marauding, horse-stealing region, full of peril for a numerous 
cavalcade so slightly manned. He addressed himself to his 
difficult journey, however, with his usual alacrity of spirit. 

In the afternoon of his first day's journey, on drawing near 
to the Bighorn Mountain, on the summit of which he intended 
to encamp for the night, he observed, to his disquiet, a cloud 
of smoke rising from its base. He came to a halt, and watched 
it anxiously. It was very irregular ; sometimes it would almost 
die away ; and then would mount up in heavy volumes. There 
was, apparently; a large party encamped there ; probably, some 
ruffian horde of Blackfeet. At any rate, it would not do for so 
small a number of men, with so numerous a cavalcade, to ven- 
ture within sight of any wandering tribe. Captain Bonne- 
ville and his companions, therefore, avoided this dangerous 
neighborhood ; and, proceeding with extreme caution, reached 
the summit of the mountain, apparently without being discov- 
ered. Here they found a deserted Blackfoot fort, in which 
they ensconced themselves ; disposed of everything as securely 
as possible, and passed the night without molestation. Early 
the next morning they descended the south side of the moun- 
tain into the great plain extending between it and the Little- 
horn range. Here they soon came upon numerous footprints, 
and the carcasses of buffaloes; by which they knew there 
must be Indians not far off. Captain Bonneville now began to 
feel solicitude about the two small parties of trappers which he 
had detached, lest the Indians should have come upon them 
before they had united their forces. But he felt still more 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. \4n 

solicitude about his own party ; for it was hardly to be expected 
he could traverse these naked plains undiscovered, when In- 
dians were abroad; and should he be discovered, his chance 
would be a desperate one. Everything now depended upon 
the greatest circumspection. It was dangerous to discharge a 
gun or light a fire, or make the least noise, where such quick 
eared and quick-sighted enemies were at hand. In the course 
of the day they saw indubitable signs that the buffalo had been 
roaming there in great numbers, and had recently been fright- 
ened away. That night they encamped with the greatest care ; 
and threw up a strong breastwork for their protection. 

For the two succeeding days they pressed forward rapidly, 
but cautiously, across the great plain; fording the tributary 
streams of the Horn Eiver; encamping one night among 
thickets; the next, on an island; meeting, repeatedly, with 
traces of Indians; and now and then, in passing through a 
defile experiencing alarms that induced them to •coc'k their 
rifles. 

On the last day of their march hunger got the better of their 
caution, and they shot a fine buffalo bull at the risk of being 
betrayed by the report. They did not halt to make a meal, 
but carried the meat on with them to the place of rendezvous, 
the Medicine Lodge, where they arrived safely, in the evening, 
celebrated their arrival by a hearty supper. 

The next morning they erected a strong pen for the horses, 
and a fortress of logs for themselves ; and continued to observe 
the greatest caution. Their cooking was all done at mid-day, 
when the fire makes no glare, and a moderate smoke cannot 
be perceived at any great distance. In the morning and the 
evening when the wind is lulled, the smoke rises perpendicu- 
larly in a blue column, or floats in light clouds above the tree- 
tops, and can be discovered from afar. 

In this way the little party remained for several days, cau- 
tiously encamped, until, on the 29th of August, the two detach- 
ments they had been expecting, arrived together at the ren- 
dezvous. They, as usual, had their several tales of adventures 
to relate to the captain, which we will furnish to the reader in 
the next chapter. 



148 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTEE XXIV. 

ADVENTURES OF THE PARTY OF TEN— THE BALAAMITE MULE— A 
DEAD POINT— THE MYSTERIOUS ELKS— A NIGHT ATTACK— A RE- 
TREAT—TRAVELLING UNDER AN ALARM — A JOYFUL MEETING- 
ADVENTURES OF THE OTHER PARTY — A DECOY ELK— RETREAT 
TO AN ISLAND— A SAVAGE DANCE OF TRIUMPH — ARRIVAL AT 
WIND RIVER. 

The adventures of the detachment of ten are the first in 
order. These trappers, when they separated from Captain 
Bonneville at the place where the furs were embarked, pro- 
ceeded to the foot of the Bighorn Mountain, and having en- 
camped, one of them mounted his mule and went out to set his 
trap in a neighboring stream. He had not proceeded far when 
his steed came to a full stop. The trapper kicked and cud- 
gelled, but to every blow and kick the mule snorted and kicked 
up, but still refused to budge an inch. The rider now cast his 
eyes warily around in search of some cause for this demur, 
when, to his dismay, he discovered an Indian fort within gun- 
shot distance, lowering through the twilight. In a twinkling 
he wheeled about ; his mule now seemed as eager to get on as 
himself, and in a few moments brought him, clattering with 
his traps, among his comrades. He was jeered at for his 
alacrity in retreating ; his report was treated as a false alarm ; 
his brother trappers contented themselves with reconnoitring 
the fort at a distance, and pronounced that it was deserted. 

As night set in, the usual precaution, enjoined by Captain 
Bonneville on his men was observed. The horses were brought 
in and tied, and a guard stationed over them. This done, the 
men wrapped themselves in their blankets, stretched them 
selves before the fire, and being fatigued with a long day's 
march, and gorged with a hearty supper, were soon in a pro- 
found sleep. 

The camp fires gradually died away ; all was dark and silent ; 
the sentinel stationed to watch the horses had marched as far, 
and supped as heartily as any of his companions, and while 
they snored, he began to nod at his post. After a time, a low 
trampling noise reached his ear. He half opened his closing 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 149 

eyes, and beheld two or three elks moving about the lodges, 
picking, end smelling, and grazing here and there. The sight 
of elk within the purlieus of the camp caused some little sur- 
prise; but, having had his supper, he cared not for elk meat, 
and, suffering them to graze about unmolested, soon relapsed 
into a doze. 

Suddenly, before daybreak, a discharge of firearms, and a 
struggle and tramp of horses, made every one start to his feet. 
The first move was to secure the horses. Some were gone ; 
others were struggling, and kicking, and trembling, for there 
was a horrible uproar of whoops, and yells, and firearms. 
Several trappers stole quietly from the camp, and succeeded in 
driving in the horses which had broken away ; the rest were 
tethered still more strongly. A breastwork was thrown up of 
saddles, baggage, and camp furniture, and all hands waited 
anxiously for daylight. The Indians, in the meantime, col- 
lected on a neighboring height, kept up the most horrible cla- 
mor, in hopes of striking a panic into the camp, or frightening 
off the horses. When the day dawned, the trappers attacked 
them briskly and drove them to some distance. A desultory 
fire was kept up for an hour, when the Indians, seeing nothing 
was to be gained, gave up the contest and retired. They 
proved to be a war party of Blackf eet, who, while in search of 
the Crow tribe, had fallen upon the trail of Captain Bonne- 
ville on the Popo Agie, and dogged him to the Bighorn : but 
had been completely baffled by his vigilance. They had then 
waylaid the present detachment, and were actually housed in 
perfect silence within their fort, when the mule of the trapper 
made such a dead point. 

The savages went off uttering the wildest denunciations of 
hostility, mingled with opprobrious terms in broken English, 
and gesticulations of the most insulting kind. 

In this melee, one white man was wounded, and two horses 
were killed. On preparing the morning's meal, however, a 
number of cups, knives, and other articles were missing, which 
had, doubtless, been carried off by the fictitious elk, during the 
slumber of the very sagacious sentinel. 

As the Indians had gone off in the direction which the trap- 
pers had intended to travel, the latter changed their route, and 
pushed forward rapidly through the " Bad Pass, "nor halted 
until night; when, supposing themselves out of the reach of 
the enemy, they contented themselves with tying up their 
horses and posting a guard. They had scarce laid down to 



ISO ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

sleep, when a dog strayed into the camp with a small pack oi 
moccasins tied upon his back ; for dogs are made to carry bur 
dens among the Indians. The sentinel, more knowing than he 
of the preceding night, awoke his companions and reported the 
circumstance. It was evident that Indians were at hand. Al] 
were instantly at work ; a strong pen was soon constructed for 
the horses, after completing which, they resumed their slum 
bers with the composure of men long inured to dangers. 

In the next night, the prowling of dogs about the camp and 
various suspicious noises showed that Indians were still hover- 
ing about them. Hurrying on by long marches, they at length 
fell upon a trail, which, with the experienced eye of veteran 
woodmen, they soon discovered to be that of the party of trap- 
pers detached by Captain Bonneville when on his march, and 
which they were sent to join. They likewise ascertained from 
various signs that this party had suffered some maltreatment 
from the Indians. They now pursued the trail with intense 
anxiety; it carried them to the banks of the stream called 
the Gray Bull, and down along its course, until they came to 
where it empties into the Horn River. Here, to their great joy, 
they discovered the comrades of whom they were in search, all 
strongly fortified, and in a state of great watchfulness and 
anxiety. 

We now take up the adventures of this first detachment of 
trappers. These men, after parting with the main body under 
Captain Bonneville, had proceeded slowly for several days up 
the course of the river, trapping beaver as they went. One 
morning, as they were about to visit their traps, one of the 
camp keepers pointed to a fine elk, grazing at a distance, and 
requested them to shoot it. Three of the trappers started off 
for the purpose. In passing a thicket, they were fired upon by 
some savages in ambush, and at the same time, the pretended 
elk, throwing off his hide and his horn, started forth an Indian 
warrior. 

One of the three trappers had been brought down by the 
volley ; the others fled to the camp, and all hands, seizing up 
whatever they could carry off, retreated to a small island in 
the river, and took refuge among the willows. Here they 
were soon joined by their comrade who had fallen, but who 
had merely been wounded in the neck. 

In the meantime the Indians took possession of the deserted 
camp, with all the traps, accoutrements, and horses. While 
they were busy among the spoils, a solitary trapper, who had 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. Jgj 

been absent at his work, came sauntering to the camp with his 
traps on his back. He had approached near by when an In- 
dian came forward and motioned him to keep away ; at the 
same moment, he was perceived by his comrades on the island, 
and warned of his danger with loud cries. The poor fellow 
stood for a moment, bewildered and aghast, then dropping iiis 
traps, wheeled and made off at full speed, quickened by a 
sportive volley which the Indians rattled after him. 

In high good humor with their easy triumph the savages 
now formed a circle round the fire and performed a war dance, 
with the unlucky trappers for rueful spectators. This done, 
emboldened by what they considered cowardice on the part of 
the white men, they neglected their usual mode of bush-fight- 
ing, and advanced openly within twenty paces of the willows. 
A sharp volley from the trappers brought them to a sudden 
halt, and laid three of them breathless. The chief, who had 
stationed himself on an eminence to direct all the movements 
of his people, seeing three of his warriors laid low, ordered the 
rest to retire. They immediately did so, and the whole band 
soon disappeared behind a point of woods, carrying off with 
them the horses, traps, and the greater part of the baggage. 

It was just after this misfortune that the party of ten men 
discovered this forlorn band of trappers in a fortress which 
they had thrown up after their disaster. They were so per- 
fectly dismayed, that they could not be induced even to go in 
quest of their traps, which they had set in a neighboring 
stream. The two parties now joined their forces, and made 
their way without further misfortune, to the rendezvous. 

Captain Bonneville perceived from the reports of these par- 
ties, as well as from what he had observed himself in his re- 
cent march, that he was in a neighborhood teeming with 
danger. Two wandering Snake Indians, also, who visited the 
camp, assured him that there were two large bands of Crows 
marching rapidly upon him. He broke up his encampment, 
therefore, on the first of September, made his way to the 
south, across the Littlehorn Mountain, until he reached Wind 
River, and then turning westward, moved slowly up the banks 
of that stream, giving time for his men to trap as he proceeded. 
As it was not in the plan of the present hunting campaign to 
go near the caches on Green River, and as the trappers were 
in want of traps to replace those they had lost, Captain Bonne- 
ville undertook to visit the caches, and procure a supply. To 
accompany him in this hazardous expedition, which would 



152 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

take him through the defiles of the Wind Eiver Mountains, 
and up the Green River valley, he took but three men; the 
main party were to continue on trapping up toward the head 
of Wind River, near which he was to rejoin them, just about 
the place where that stream issues from the mountains. We 
shall accompany the captain on his adventurous errand. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE SETS OUT FOR GREEN RIVER VALLEY — 
JOURNEY UP THE POPO AGIE— BUFFALOES— THE STARING 
WHITE BEARS— THE SMOKE — THE WARM SPRINGS— ATTEMPT TO 
TRAVERSE THE WIND RIVER MOUNTAINS— THE GREAT SLOPE- 
MOUNTAIN DELLS AND CHASMS — CRYSTAL LAKES — ASCENT OF 
A SNOWY PEAK— SUBLIME PROSPECT— A PANORAMA— u LES 
DIGNES DE PITIE," OR WILD MEN OF THE MOUNTAINS. 

Having forded Wind River a little above its mouth, Captain 
Bonneville and his three companions proceeded across a grav- 
elly plain, until they fell upon the Popo Agie, up the left bank 
of which they held their course, nearly in a southerly direc- 
tion. Here they came upon numerous droves of buffalo, and 
halted for the purpose of procuring a supply of beef. As the 
hunters were stealing cautiously to get within shot of the 
game, two small white bears suddenly presented themselves 
in their path, and, rising upon their hind legs, contemplated 
them for some time with a whimsically solemn gaze. The 
hunters remained motionless; whereupon the bears, having 
apparently satisfied their curiosity, lowered themselves upon 
all fours, and began to withdraw. The hunters now advanced, 
upon which the bears turned, rose again upon their haunches, 
and repeated their serio-comic examination. This was re- 
peated several times, until the hunters, piqued at their un- 
mannerly staring, rebuked it with a discharge of their rifles. 
The bears made an awkward bound or two, as if wounded, and 
then walked off with great gravity, seeming to commune to- 
gether, and every now and then turning to take another look 
at the hunters. It was well for the latter that the bears were 
but half grown, and had not yet acquired the ferocity of their 
kind. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 153 

The buffalo were somewhat startled at the report of the fire- 
arms; but the hunters succeeded in killing a couple of fine 
cows, and, having secured the best of the meat, continued for- 
ward until some time after dark, when, encamping in a large 
thicket of willows, they made a great fire, roasted buffalo beef 
enough for half a score, disposed of the whole of it with keen 
. relish and high glee, and then ' ' turned in" for the night and 
slept soundly, like weary and well-fed hunters. 

At daylight they were in the saddle again, and skirted along 
the river, passing through fresh grassy meadows, and a succes- 
sion of beautiful groves of willows and cotton-wood. Toward 
evening, Captain Bonneville observed smoke at a distance ris- 
ing from among hills, directly in the route he was pursuing. 
Apprehensive of some hostile band, he concealed the horses in 
a thicket, and, accompanied by one of his men, crawled cau- 
tiously up a height, from which he could overlook the scene 
of danger. Here, with a spy-glass, he reconnoitred the sur- 
rounding country, but not a lodge nor fire, nob a man, horse, 
nor dog, was to be discovered ; in short, the smoke which had 
caused such alarm proved to be the vapor from several warm, 
or rather hot springs of considerable magnitude, pouring forth 
streams in every direction over a bottom of white clay. One 
of the springs was about twenty-five yards in diameter, and so 
deep that the water was of a bright green color. 

They were now advancing diagonally upon the chain of Wind 
River Mountains, which lay between them and Green River 
valley. To coast round their southern points would be a wide 
circuit; whereas, could they force their way through them, 
they might proceed in a straight line. The mountains were 
lofty, with snowy peaks and cragged sides ; it was hoped, how- 
ever, that some practicable defile might be found. They at- 
tempted, accordingly, to penetrate the mountains by following 
up one of the branches of the Popo Agie, but soon found them- 
selves in the midst of stupendous crags and precipices, that 
barred all progress. Eetracing their steps, and falling back 
upon the river, they consulted where to make another attempt. 
They were too close beneath the mountains to scan them gener- 
ally, but they now recollected having noticed, from the plain, 
a beautiful slope, rising at an angle of about thirty degrees, 
and apparently without any break, until it reached the snowy 
region. Seeking this gentle acclivity, they began to ascend it 
with alacrity, trusting to find at the top one of those elevated 
plains which prevail among the Rocky Mountains. The slope 



154 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

was covered with coarse gravel, interspersed with plates of 
freestone. They attained the summit with some toil, but 
found, instead of a level, or rather undulating plain, that they 
were on the brink of a deep and precipitous ravine, from the 
bottom of which rose a second slope, similar to the one they 
had just ascended. Down into this profound ravine they made 
their way by a rugged path, or rather fissure of the rocks, and 
then labored up the second slope. They gained the summit 
only to find themselves on another ravine, and now perceived 
that this vast mountain, which had presented such a sloping 
and even side to the distant beholder on the plain, was shagged 
by frightful precipices, and seamed with longitudinal chasms, 
deep and dangerous. 

In one of these wild dells they passed the night, and slept 
soundly and sweetly after their fatigues. Two days more of 
arduous climbing and scrambling only served to admit them 
into the heart of this mountainous and awful solitude ; where 
difficulties increased as they proceeded. Sometimes they 
scrambled from rock to rock, up the bed of some mountain 
stream, dashing its bright way down to the plains ; sometimes 
they availed themselves of the paths made by the deer and the 
mountain sheep, which, however, often took them to the brink 
of fearful precipices, or led to rugged defiles, impassable for 
their horses. At one place they were obliged to slide their 
horses down the face of a rock, in which attempt some of the 
poor animals lost their footing, rolled to the bottom, and came 
near being dashed to pieces. 

In the afternoon of the second day, the travellers attained 
one of the elevated valleys locked up in this singular bed of 
mountains. Here were two bright and beautiful little lakes, 
set like mirrors in the midst of stern and rocky heights, and 
surrounded by grassy meadows, inexpressibly refreshing to 
the eye. These probably were among the sources of those 
mighty streams which take their rise among these moun- 
tains, and wander hundreds of miles through the plains. 

In the green pastures bordering upon these lakes, the trav- 
ellers halted to repose, and to give their weary horses time 
to crop the sweet and tender herbage. They had now as- 
scended to a great height above the level of the plains, yet 
they beheld huge crags of granite piled one upon another, 
and beetling like battlements far above them. While two of 
the men remained in the camp with the horses, Captain 
Bonneville, accompanied by the other men, set out to climb 



AD VEJS TUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 155 

a neighboring height, hoping to gain a commanding pros- 
pect, and discern some practicable route through this stu- 
pendous labyrinth. After much toil, he reached the summit 
of a lofty cliff, but it was only to behold gigantic peaks ris- 
ing all around, and towering far into the snowy regions of 
the atmosphere. Selecting one which appeared to be the 
highest, he crossed a narrow intervening valley, and began 
to scale it. He soon found that he had undertaken a tre* 
mendous task ; but the pride of man is never more obstinate 
than when climbing mountains. The ascent was so steep 
and rugged that he and his companions were frequently 
obliged to clamber on hands and knees, with their guns slung 
upon their backs. Frequently, exhausted with fatigue, and 
dripping with perspiration, they threw themselves upon the 
snow, and took handfuls of it to allay their parching thirst. 
At one place they even stripped off their coats and hung 
them upon the bushes, and thus lightly clad, proceeded to 
scramble over these eternal snows. As they ascended still 
higher, there were cool breezes that refreshed and braced 
them, and springing with new ardor to their task, they at 
length attained the summit. 

Here a scene burst upon the view of Captain Bonneville, that 
for a time astonished and overwhelmed him with its immensi- 
ty. He stood, in fact, upon that dividing ridge which Indians 
regard as the crest of the world ; and on each side of which 
the landscape may be said to decline to the two cardinal oceans 
of the globe. Whichever way he turned his eye, it was con- 
founded by the vastness and variety of objects. Beneath him, 
the Rocky Mountains seemed to open all their secret recesses ; 
deep, solemn valleys; treasured lakes; dreary passes; rugged 
defiles and foaming torrents ; while beyond their savage pre- 
cincts, the eye was lost in an almost immeasurable landscape, 
stretching on every side into dim and hazy distance, like the 
expanse of a summer's sea. Whichever way he looked, he be- . 
held vast plains glimmering with reflected sunshine ; mighty 
streams wandering on their shining course toward either ocean, 
and snowy mountains, chain beyond chain, and peak beyond 
peak, till they melted like clouds into the horizon. For a time, 
the Indian fable seemed realized ; he had attained that height 
from which the Blackfoot warrior, after death, first catches a 
view of the land of souls, and beholds the happy hunting 
grounds spread out below him, brightening with the abodes of 
the free and generous spirits. ^Fhe captain stood for a long 



156 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

while gazing upon this scene, lost in a crowd of vague and in 
definite ideas and sensations. A long-drawn inspiration at 
length relieved him from this enthralment of the mind, and he 
began to analyze the parts of this vast panorama. A simple 
enumeration of a few of its features may give some idea of its 
collective grandeur and magnificence. 

The peak on which the captain had taken his stand com- 
manded the whole Wind River chain; which, in fact, may 
rather be considered one immense mountain, broken into 
snowy peaks and lateral spurs, and seamed with narrow val- 
leys. Some of thsse valleys glittered with silver lakes and 
gushing streams ; *he fountain-heads, as it were, of the mighty 
tributaries to the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Beyond the 
snowy peaks, to the south, and far, far below the mountain 
range, the gentle river, called the Sweet Water, was seen pur- 
suing its tranquil way through the rugged regions of the Black 
Hills. In the east, the head-waters of Wind River wandered 
through a plain, until, mingling in one powerful current, they 
forced their way through the range of Horn Mountains, and 
were lost to view. To the north were caught glimpses of the 
upper streams of the Yellowstone, that great tributary of the 
Missouri. In another direction were to be seen some of the 
sources of the Oregon, or Columbia, flowing to the northwest, 
past those towering landmarks, the Three Tetons, and pouring 
down into the great lava plain ; while, almost at the captain's 
feet, the Green River, or Colorado of the West, set forth on its 
wandering pilgrimage to the Gulf of California ; at first a mere 
mountain torrent, dashing northward over crag and precipice, 
in a succession of cascades, and tumbling into the plain, where, 
expanding into an ample river, it circled away to the south, 
and after alternately shining out and disappearing in the 
mazes of the vast landscape, was finally lost in a horizon of 
mountains. The day was calm and cloudless, and the atmos- 
phere so pure that objects were discernible at an astonishing 
distance. The whole of this immense area was inclosed by an 
outer range of shadowy peaks, some of them faintly marked 
on the horizon, which seemed to wall it in from the rest of the 
earth. 

It is to be regretted that Captain Bonneville had no instru- 
ments with him with which to ascertain the altitude of this 
peak. He gives it as his opinion, that it is the loftiest point of 
the North American continent ; but of this we have no satis- 
factory proof. It is certain that the Rocky Mountains are of 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 157 

an altitude vastly superior to what was formerly supposed. 
We rather incline to the opinion that the highest peak is fur- 
ther to the northward, and is the same measured by Mr. 
Thompson, surveyor to the Northwest Company ; who, by the 
joint means of the barometer and trigonometric measurement, 
ascertained it to be twenty-five thousand feet above the level 
of the sea; an elevation only inferior to that of the Him 
alayas.* 

For a long time, Captain Bonneville remained gazing around 
him with wonder and enthusiasm; at length the chill and 
wintry winds, whirling about the snow-clad height, admon- 
ished him to descend. He soon regained the spot where he 
and his companions had thrown off their coats, which were 
now gladly resumed, and, retracing their course down the 
peak, they safely rejoined their companions on the border of 
the lake. 

Notwithstanding the savage and almost inaccessible nature 
of these mountains, they have their inhabitants. As one of 
the party was out hunting, he came upon the track of a man, 
in a lonely valley. Following it up, he reached the brow of a 
cliff, whence he beheld three savages running across the valley 
below him. He fired his gun to call their attention r hoping to 
induce them to turn back. They only fled the faster, and dis* 
appeared among the rocks. The hunter returned and reported 
what he had seen. Captain Bonneville at once concluded that 
these belonged to a kind of hermit race, scanty in number, 
that inhabit the highest and most inaccessible fastnesses. 
They speak the Shoshon?e language, and probably are offsets 
from that tribe, though they have peculiarities of their own 
which distinguish them from all other Indians. They are 
miserably poor, own no horses, and are destitute of every con- 
venience to be derived from an intercourse with the whites. 
Their weapons are bows and stone-pointed arrows, with which 
they hunt the deer, the elk, and the mountain sheep. They 
are to be found scattered about the countries of the Shoshonie, 
Flathead, Crow, and Blackf eet tribes ; but their residences are 
always in lonely places, and the clefts of the rocks. 

Their footsteps are often seen by the trappers in the high 
and solitary valleys among the mountains, and the smokes of 
their fires descried among the precipices, but they themselves 



* See the letter of Professor Renwick, in the Appendix to Astoria. 



158 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

are rarely met with, and still more rarely brought to a parley, 
so great is their shyness and their dread of strangers. 

As their poverty offers no temptation to the marauder, and 
as they are inoffensive in their habits, they are never the ob- 
jects of warfare; should one of them, however, fall into the 
hands of a war party, he is sure to be made a sacrifice, for the 
sake of that savage trophy, a scalp, and that barbarous cere- 
mony, a scalp dance. These forlorn beings, forming a mere 
link between human nature and the brute, have been looked 
down upon with pity and contempt by the Creole trappers, 
who have given them the appellation of "les dignes de pitie," 
or "the objects of pity." They appear more worthy to be 
called the wild men of the mountains. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

\ 

A RETROGRADE MOVE — CHANNEL OF A MOUNTAIN TORRENT — 
ALPINE SCENERY— CASCADES— BEAVER VALLEYS — BEAVERS AT 
WORK — THEIR ARCHITECTURE— THEIR MODES OF FELLING TREES 
—MODE OF TRAPPING BEAVER— CONTESTS OF SKILL — A BEAVER 
"UP TO TRAP"— ARRIVAL AT THE GREEN RIVER CACHES. 

The view from the snowy peak of the Wind Eiver Moun- 
tain, while it had excited Captain Bonneville's enthusiasm, 
had satisfied him that it w^ould be useless to force a passage 
westward, through multiplying barriers of cliffs and preci- 
pices. Turning his face eastward, therefore, he endeavored 
to regain the plains, intending to make the circuit round the 
southern point of the mountain. To descend and to extricate 
himself from the heart of this rock-piled wilderness, was al- 
most as difficult as to penetrate it. Taking his course down 
the ravine of a tumbling stream, the commencement of some 
mture river, he descended from rock to rock, and shelf to 
shelf, between stupendous cliffs and beetling crags that 
sprang up to^ the sky. Often he had to cross and recross 
the rushing torrent, as it wound foaming and roaring down 
its broken channel, or was walled by perpendicular precipices; 
and imminent was the hazard of breaking the legs of the 
horses in the clefts and fissures of slippery rocks. The whole 
scenery of this deep ravine was of Alpine wildness and sub 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 159 

limity. Sometimes the travellers passed beneath cascades 
which pitched from such lofty heights that the water fell 
into the stream like heavy rain. In other places torrents 
came tumbling from crag to crag, dashing into foam and 
spray, and making tremendous din and uproar. 

On the second day of their descent, the travellers, having 
got beyond the steepest pitch of the mountains, came to where 
the deep and rugged ravine began occasionally to expand into 
small levels or valleys, and the stream to assume for short 
intervals a more peaceful character. Here not merely the 
river itself, but every rivulet flowing into it, was dammed 
up by communities of industrious beavers, so as to inundate 
the neighborhood and make continual swamps. 

During a mid-day halt in one of these beaver valleys, Cap- 
tain Bonneville left his companions, and strolled down the 
course of the stream to reconnoitre. He had not proceeded 
far when he came to a beaver pond, and caught a glimpse 
of one of its painstaking inhabitants busily at work upon the 
dam. The curiosity of the captain was aroused, to behold the 
mode of operating of this far-famed architect; he moved for- 
ward, therefore, with the utmost caution, parting the branches 
of the water willows without making any noise, until having 
attained a position commanding a view of the whole pond, he 
stretched himself flat on the ground, and watched the solitary 
workman. In a little while three others appeared at the head 
of the dam, bringing sticks and bushes. With these they pro- 
ceeded directly to the barrier, which Captain Bonneville per- 
ceived was in need of repair. Having deposited * their loads 
upon the broken part, they dived into the water, and shortly 
reappeared at the surface. Each now brought a quantity of 
mud, with which he would plaster the sticks and bushes just 
deposited. - This kind of masonry was continued for some 
time, repeated supplies of wood and mud being brought, and 
treated in the same manner. This done, the industrious 
beavers indulged in a little recreation, chasing each other 
about the pond, dodging and whisking about on the surface, 
or diving to the bottom; and in their frolic often slapping 
their tails on the water with a loud clacking sound. While 
they were thus amusing themselves, ^mother of the fraternity 
made his appearance, and looked gravely on their sports for 
some time, without offering to join in them. He then climbed 
the bank close to where the captain was concealed, and, rear- 
ing himself on his hind quarters,* in a sitting position, put his 



X60 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

fore paws against a young pine tree, and began to cut the bark 
with his teeth. At times he would tear off a small piece, and 
holding it between his paws, and retaining his sedentary posi- 
tion, would feed himself with it, after the fashion of a monkey. 
The object of the beaver, however, was evidently to cut down 
the tree ; and he was proceeding with his work, when he was 
alarmed by the approach of Captain Bonneville's men, who, 
feeling anxious at the protracted absence of their leader, w r ere 
coming in search of him. At the sound of their voices, all the 
beavers, busy as well as idle, dived at once beneath the sur- 
face, and were no more to be seen. Captain Bonneville re- 
gretted this interruption. Ho had heard much of the sagacity 
of the beaver in cutting down frees, in which, it is said, they 
manage to make them fall into the water, and in such a posi- 
tion and direction as may be most favorable for conveyance to 
the desired point. In the present instance, the tree was a tall, 
straight pine, and as it grew perpendicularly, and there was 
not a breath, of air stirring, the beaver could have felled it in 
any direction he pleased, if really capable of exercising a dis- 
cretion in the matter. He was evidently engaged in " belting" 
the tree, and his first incision had been on the side nearest to 
the water. 

Captain Bonneville, however, discredits, on the whole, the 
alleged sagacity of the beaver in this particular, and thinks 
the animal has no other aim than to get the tree down, without 
any of the subtle calculation as to its mode or direction of fall- 
ing. This attribute, he thinks, has been ascribed to them from 
the circumstance that most trees growing near water-courses, 
either lean bodily toward the stream, or stretch their largest 
limbs in that direction, to benefit by the space, the light, and 
the air to be found there. The beaver, of course, attacks those 
trees which are nearest at hand, and on the banks of the 
stream or pond. He makes incisions round them, or, in tech* 
nical phrase, belts them with his teeth, and when they fall, 
they naturally take the direction in which their trunks or 
branches preponderate. 

"I have often," says Captain Bonneville, "seen trees 
measuring eighteen inches in diameter, at the places where 
they had been cut through by the beaver, but they lay in 
all directions, and often very inconveniently for the after 
purposes of the animal. In fact, so little ingenuity do they 
at times display in this particular, that at one of our camps on 
Snake Eiver a beaver was found with his head wedged into 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. \Q\ 

che cut which he had made, the tree having fallen upon him 
and held him prisoner until he died." 

Great choice, according to the captain, is certainly displayed 
by the beaver in selecting the wood which is to furnish bark 
for winter provision. The whole beaver household, old and 
young, set out upon this business, and will often make long 
journeys before they are suited. Sometimes they cut down 
trees of the largest size and then cull the branches, the bark of 
which is most to their taste. These they cut into lengths of 
about three feet, convey them to the water, and float them to 
their lodges, where they are stored away for winter. They 
are studious of cleanliness ,and comfort in their lodges, and 
after their repasts, will carry out the sticks from which they 
have eaten the bark, and throw them into the current beyond 
the barrier. They are jealous, too, of their territories, and 
extremely pugnacious, never permitting a strange beavei- to 
enter their premises, and often fighting with such virulence as 
almost to tear each other to pieces. In the spring, wnich is 
the breeding season, the male leaves the female at home, and 
sets off on a tour of pleasure, rambling often to a great 
distance, recreating himself in every clear and quiet expanse 
of water on his way, and climbing the banks occasionally to 
feast upon the tender sprouts of the young willows. As sum- 
mer advances, he gives up his bachelor rambles, and bethink- 
ing himself of housekeeping duties, returns home to his mate 
and his new progeny, and marshals them all for the foraging 
expedition in quest of winter provisions. 

After having shown the public spirit of this praiseworthy 
little animal as a member of a community, and his amiable and 
exemplary conduct as the father of a family, we grieve to re- 
cord the perils with which he is environed, and the snares set 
for him and his painstaking household. 

Practice, says Captain Bonneville, has given such a quick- 
ness of eye to the experienced trapper in all that relates to his 
pursuit, that he can detect the slightest sign of beaver, how- 
ever wild ; and although the lodge may be concealed by close 
thickets and overhanging willows, he can generally, at a single 
glance, make an accurate guess at the number of its inmates. 
He now goes to work to set his trap; planting it upon the 
shore, in some chosen place, two or three inches below the sur- 
face of the water, and secures it by a chain to a pole set deep 
in the mud. A small twig is then stripped of its bark, and one 
end is dipped in the " medicine," as the trappers term tha 



162 ADVENTUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

peculiar bait which they employ. This end of the stick rises 
about four inches above the surface of the water, the other end 
is planted between the jaws of the trap. The beaver, possess- 
ing an acute sense of smell, is soon attracted by the odor of the 
bait. As he raises his nose toward it, his foot is caught in the 
trap. In his fright he throws a somerset into the deep water. 
The trap being fastened to the pole, resists all his efforts to 
drag it to the shore; the chain by which it is fastened defies 
his teeth ; he struggles for a time, and at length sinks to the 
bottom and is drowned. 

Upon rocky bottoms, where it is not possible to plant the 
pole, it is thrown into the stream.^ The beaver when entrapped 
often gets fastened by the chain to sunken logs or floating 
timber ; if he gets to shore, he is entangled in the thickets of 
brook willows. In such cases, however, it costs the trapper 
diligent search, and sometimes a bout at swimming, before he 
finds his game. 

Occasionally it happens that several members of a beaver 
family are trapped in succession. The survivors then become 
extremely shy, and can scarcely be " brought to medicine," to 
use the trapper's phrase, for "taking the bait." In such case, 
the trapper gives up the use of the bait and conceals his traps 
in the usual paths and crossing-places of the household. The 
beaver now being completely "up to trap," approaches them 
cautiously, and springs them ingeniously with a stick. At 
other times he turns the traps bottom upward by the same 
means, and occasionally even drags them to the barrier and 
conceals them in the mud. The trapper now give up the con- 
test of ingenuity, and shouldering his 'traps marches off, ad- 
mitting that he is not yet "up to beaver." 

On the day following Captain Bonneville's supervision of the 
industrious and frolicsome community of beavers, of which he 
has given so edifying an account, he succeeded in extricating 
himself from the Wind Eiver Mountains, and regaining the 
plain to the eastward, made a great bend to the south, so as to 
go round the bases of the mountains, and arrived, without 
further incident of importance, at the old place of rendezvoun 
in Green Eiver valley, on the 17th of September. 

He found the caches, in which he had deposited his superflu 
ous goods and equipments, all safe, and having opened and 
taken from them the necessary supplies, he closed them again, 
taking care to obliterate all traces that might betray them to 
the keen eyes of Indian marauders. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 168 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

ROUTE TOWARD WIND ^ RIVER — DANGEROUS NEIGHBORHOOD — 
ALARMS AND PRECAUTIONS — A SHAM ENCAMPMENT — APPARITION 
OF AN INDIAN SPY — MIDNIGHT MOVE— A MOUNTAIN DEFILE — 
THE WIND RIVER VALLEY — TRACKING A PARTY— DESERTED 
CAMPS — SYMPTOMS OF CROWS — MEETING OF COMRADES— A 
TRAPPER ENTRAPPED— CROW PLEASANTRY— CROW SPIES— A 
DECAMPMENT— RETURN TO GREEN RIVER VALLEY— MEETING 
WITH FITZPATRICK'S PARTY— THEIR ADVENTURES AMONG THE 
CROWS— ORTHODOX CROWS. 

On the 18th of September, Captain Bonneville and his three 
companions set out, bright and early, to rejoin the main party, 
from which they had parted on Wind River. Their route lay 
up the Green River valley, with that stream on their right 
hand, and beyond it the range of Wind River Mountains. At 
the head of the valley they were to pass through a defile which 
would bring them out beyond the northern end of these moun- 
tains, to the head of Wind River; where they expected to meet 
the main party according to arrangement. 

We have already adverted to the dangerous nature of this 
neighborhood, infested by roving bands of Crows and Black- 
feet, to whom the numerous defiles and passes of the country 
afford capital places for ambush and surprise. The travellers, 
therefore, kept a vigilant eye upon everything that might give 
intimation of lurking danger. 

About two hours after mid-day, as they reached the summit 
of a hill, they discovered buffalo on the plain below, running 
in every direction. One of the men, too, fancied he heard the 
report of a gun. It was concluded, therefore, that there was 
some party of Indians below, hunting the buffalo. 

The horses were immediately concealed in a narrow ravine ; 
and the captain, mounting an eminence, but concealing him- 
self from view, reconnoitred the whole neighborhood with a 
telescope. Not an Indian was to be seen; so, after halting 
about an hour, he resumed his journey. Convinced, however, 
that he was in a dangerous neighborhood, he advanced with 
the utmost caution; winding his way through hollows and 



164 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

ravines, and avoiding, as much as possible, any open tract or 
rising ground that might betray his little party to the watchfu] 
eye of an Indian scout. 

Arriving at length at the edge of the open meadow land 
bordering on the river, he again observed the buffalo, as far as 
he could see, scampering in great alarm. Once more conceal- 
ing the horses, he and his companions remained for a long 
time watching the various groups of the animals, as each 
caught the panic and started off; but they sought in vain to 
discover the cause. 

They were now about to enter the mountain defile, at the 
head of Green Eiver valley, where they might be waylaid and 
attacked ; they therefore arranged the packs on their horses, in 
the manner most secure and convenient for sudden flight, 
should such be necessary. This done, they again set forward, 
keeping the most anxious look-out in every direction. 

It was now drawing toward evening; but they could not 
think of encamping for the night in a place so full of danger. 
Captain Bonneville, therefore, determined to halt about sun- 
set, kindle a fire, as if for encampment, cook and eat supper; 
but, as soon as it was sufficiently dark, to make a rapid move 
for the summit of the mountain, and seek some secluded spot 
for their night's lodgings. 

Accordingly, as the sun went down, the little party came to 
a halt, made a large fire, spitted their buffalo meat on wooden 
sticks, and, when sufficiently roasted, planted the savory 
viands before them ; cutting off huge slices with their hunting 
knives, and supping with a hunter's appetite. The light of 
their fire would not fail, as they knew, to attract the attention 
of any Indian horde in the neighborhood ; but they trusted to 
be off and away before any prowlers could reach the place. 
While they were supping thus hastily, however, one of their 
party suddenly started up and shouted " Indians!" All were 
instantly on their feet, with their rifles in their hands; but 
could see no enemy. The man, however, declared that he 
had seen an Indian advancing cautiously along the trail which 
they had made in coming to the encampment, who, the mo- 
ment he was perceived had thrown himself on the ground and 
disappeared. He urged Captain Bonneville instantly to de- 
camp. The captain, however, took the matter more coolly. 
The single fact that the Indian had endeavored to hide himself, 
convinced him that he was not one of a party on the advance 
to make an attack. He was, probably, some scout, who had 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 165 

followed up their trail until he came in sight of their fire. 
He would, in such case, return, and report what he had seen 
to his companions. These, supposing the white men had en- 
camped for the night, would keep aloof until very late, when 
all should be asleep. They would then, according to Indian 
tactics, make their stealthy approaches, and place themselves 
in ambush around, preparatory to their attack at the usual 
hour of daylight. 

Such was Captain Bonneville's conclusion; in consequence 
of which, he counselled his men to keep perfectly quiet, and 
act as if free from alarm, until the proper time arrived for a 
movement. They, accordingly, continued their repast with 
pretended appetite and jollity; and then trimmed and re- 
plenished their fire, as if for a bivouac. As soon, however, as 
the night had completely set in, they left their fire blazing, 
walked quietly among the willows, and then leaping into their 
saddles, made off as noiselessly as possible. In proportion a£ 
they left the point of danger behind them, they relaxed in 
their rigid and anxious taciturnity, and began to joke at the 
expense of their enemy, whom they pictured to themselves 
mousing in the neighborhood of their deserted fire, waiting for 
the proper time of attack, and preparing for a grand dis- 
appointment. 

About midnight, feeling satisfied that they had gained a 
secure distance, they posted one of their number to keep 
watch, in case the enemy should follow on their trail, and 
then, turning abruptly into a dense and matted thicket of 
willows, halted for the night at the foot of the mountain, in- 
stead of making for the summit, as they had originally in- 
tended. 

A trapper in the wilderness, like a sailor on the ocean, 
snatches morsels of enjoyment in the midst of trouble, and 
sleeps soundly when surrounded by danger. The little party 
now made their arrangements for sleep with perfect calmness ; 
they did not venture to make a fire and cook, it is true, though 
generally done by hunters whenever they come to a halt, and 
have provisions. They comforted themselves, however, by 
smoking a tranquil pipe ; and then calling in the watch, and 
turning loose the horses, stretched themselves on their pallets, 
agreed that whoever should first awake should rouse the rest, 
and in a little while were all in as sound sleep as though in the 
midst of a fortress. 

A little before day, they were all oh the alert: it was the 



166 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

hour for Indian maraud. A sentinel was immediately de- 
tached, to post himself at a little distance on their trail, and 
give the alarm, should he see or hear an enemy. 

With the first blink of dawn the rest sought the horses, 
brought them to the camp, and tied them up until an hour 
after sunrise, when, the sentinel having reported that all was 
well, they sprang once more into their saddles, and pursued 
the most covert and secret paths up the mountain, avoiding 
the direct route. 

At noon they halted and made a hasty repast, and then bent 
their course so as to regain the route from which they had 
diverged. They were now made sensible oi the danger from 
which they had just escaped. There were tracks of Indians, 
who had evidently been in pursuit of them, but had recently 
returned, baffled in their search. 

Trusting that they had now got a fair start, and could not 
be overtaken before night, even in case the Indians should re- 
new the chase, they pushed briskly forward, and did not en- 
camp until late, when they cautiously concealed themselves in 
a secure nook of the mountains. 

Without any further alarm, they made their way to the 
head-waters of Wind River ; and reached the neighborhood in 
which they had appointed the rendezvous with their com- 
panions. It was within the precincts of the Crow country; 
the Wind Eiver valley being one of the favorite haunts of that 
restless tribe. After much searching, Captain Bonneville came 
upon a trail which had evidently been made by his main party. 
It was so old, however, that he feared his people might have 
left the neighborhood ; driven off, perhaps, by some of those 
war parties which were on the prowl. He continued his 
search with great anxiety, and no little fatigue ; for his horses 
were jaded, and almost crippled, by their forced marches and 
scramblings through rocky defiles. 

On the following day, about noon, Captain Bonnevil^ came 
upon a deserted camp of his people, from which they had evi- 
dently turned back; but he could find no signs to indicate 
why they had done so ; whether they had met with misfortune, 
or molestation, or in what direction they had gone. He was 
now more than ever perplexed. 

On the following day he resumed his march with increasing 
anxiety. The feet of his horses had by this time become so 
worn and wounded by the rocks, that he had to make mocca- 
Bins for them of bufMo hide, About noon he came to another 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 167 

deserted camp of his men ; but soon after lost their trail. After 
great search, he once more found it, turning in a southerly di- 
rection along the eastern bases of the Wind River Mountains, 
which towered to the right. He now pushed forward with all 
possible speed, in hopes of overtaking the party. At night he 
slept at another of their camps, from which they had but re- 
cently departed. When the day dawned sufficiently to distin- 
guish objects, he perceived the danger that must be dogging 
the heels of his main party. All about the camp were traces 
of Indians who must have been prowling about it at the time 
his people had passed the night there ; and who must still be 
hovering about them. Convinced now that the main party 
could not be at any great distance, he mounted a scout, on the 
best horse, and sent him forward to overtake them, to warn 
them of their danger, and to order them to halt, until he should 
rejoin them. 

In the afternoon, to his great joy, he met the scout return- 
ing, with six comrades from the main party, leading fresh 
horses for his accommodation ; and on the following day (Sep- 
tember 25th), all hands were once more reunited, after a sepa- 
ration of nearly three weeks. Their meeting was hearty and 
joyous ; for they had both experienced dangers and perplexi- 
ties. 

The main party, in pursuing their course up the Wind River 
valley, had been dogged the whole way by a war party of 
Crows. In one place they had been fired upon, but without 
injury; in another place, one of their horses had been cut 
loose, and carried off. At length, they were so closely beset 
that they were obliged to make a retrograde move, lest they 
should be surprised and overcome. This was the movement 
which had caused such perplexity to Captain Bonneville. 

The whole party now remained encamped for two or three 
days, to give repose to both men and horses. Some of the 
trappers, however, pursued their vocations about the neigh- 
boring streams. While one of them was setting his traps, he 
heard the tramp of horses, and looking up, beheld a party of 
Crow braves moving along at no great distance, witji a consid- 
erable cavalcade. The trapper hastened to conceal himself, 
but was discerned by the quick eye of the savages. With 
whoops and yells, they dragged him from his hiding-place, 
nourished over his head their tomahawks and scalping-knives, 
and for a time the poor trapper gave himself up for lost. For- 
tunately the Crows were in a jocose rather than a sanguinary 



168 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE 

mood. They amused themselves heartily for a while at the 
expense of his terrors, and after having played off divers 
Crow pranks and pleasantries, suffered him to depart un- 
harmed. It is true, they stripped him completely, one tak- 
ing his horse, another his gun, a third his traps, a fourth 
his blanket, and so on through all his accoutrements, and even 
his clothing, until he was stark naked ; but then they gener- 
ously made him a present of an old tattered buffalo robe, and 
dismissed him, with many complimentary speeches and much 
laughter. When the trapper returned to the camp in such 
sorry plight, he was greeted with peals of laughter from his 
comrades, and seemed more mortified by the style in which he 
had been dismissed, than rejoiced at escaping with his life. A 
circumstance which he related to Captain Bonneville gave 
some insight into the cause of this extreme jocularity on the 
part of the Crows. They had evidently had a run of luck, 
and, like winning gamblers, were in high good humor. Among 
twenty-six fine horses, and some mules, which composed their 
cavalcade, the trapper recognized a number which had be- 
longed to Fitzpatrick's brigade, when they parted company on 
the Bighorn. It was supposed, therefore, that these vaga- 
bonds had been on his trail, and robbed him of part of his 
cavalry. 

On the day following this affair, three Crows came into Cap- 
tain Bonneville's camp, with the most easy, innocent, if not 
impudent air imaginable ; walking about with that impertur- 
bable coolness and unconcern in which the Indian rivals the 
fine gentleman. As they had not been of the set which 
stripped the trapper, though evidently of the same band, 
they were not molested. Indeed, Captain Bonneville treated 
them with his usual kindness and hospitality ; permitting them 
to remain all day in the camp, and even to pass the night 
there. At the same time, however, he caused a strict watch 
to be maintained on all their movements and at night sta- 
tioned an armed sentinel near them. The Crows remonstrated 
against the latter being armed. This only made the captain 
suspect them to be spies, who meditated treachery; he re- 
doubled, therefore, his precautions. At the same time he as- 
sured his guests that while they were perfectly welcome to the 
shelter and comfort of his camp, yet, should any of their tribe 
venture to approach during the night, they would certainly be 
shot, which would be a very unfortunate circumstance, and 
much to be deplored. To the latter remark they fully as- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 169 

sented, and shortly afterward commenced a wild song or 
chant, which they kept up for a long time, and in which 
they very probably gave their friends, who might be prowl- 
ing round the camp, notice that the white men w^ere on the 
alert. The night passed away without disturbance. In the 
morning the three Crow guests were very pressing that Cap- 
tain Bonneville and his party should accompany them to their 
camp, which they said was close by. Instead of accepting 
their invitation Captain Bonneville took his departure with 
all possible dispatch, eager to be out of the vicinity of such 
a piratical horde ; nor did he relax the diligence of his march 
until, on the second day, he reached the banks of the Sweet 
Water, beyond the limits of the Crow country, and a, heavy 
fall of snow had obliterated all traces of his course. 

He now continued on for some few days, at a slower pace, 
round the point of the mountain toward Green River, and ar- 
rived once more at the caches, on the 14th of October. 

Here they found traces of the band of Indians who had 
hunted them in the defile toward the head-waters of Wind 
River. Having lost all trace of them on their way over the 
mountains, they had turned and followed back their trail 
down the Green River valley to the caches. One of these 
they had discovered and broken open, but it fortunately con- 
tained nothing but fragments of old iron, which they had 
scattered about in all directions, and then departed. In "ex- 
amining their deserted camp, Captain Bonneville discovered 
that it numbered thirty-nine fires, and had more reason than 
ever to congratulate himself on having escaped the clutches ol 
such a formidable band of freebooters. 

He now turned his course southward, under cover of the 
mountains, and on the 25th of October reached Liberge's Ford, 
a tributary of the Colorado, where he came suddenly upon the 
trail of this same war party, which had crossed the stream so 
recently that the banks were yet wet with the water that had 
been splashed upon them. To judge from their tracks, they 
could not be less than three hundred warriors, and apparently 
of the Crow nation. 

Captain Bonneville was extremely uneasy lest this over- 
powering force should come upon him in some place where he 
would not have the means of fortifying himself promptly. He 
now moved toward Hane's Fork, another tributary of the Col- 
orado, where he encamped, and remained during the 26th of 
October. Seeing a large cloud of smoke to the south, he sup- 



170 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

posed it to arise from some encampment of Shoshonies, and 
sent scouts to procure information, and to purchase a lodge. 
It was, in fact, a band of Shoshonies, but with them were en- 
camped Fitzpatrick and his party of trappers. That active 
leader had an eventful story to relate of his fortunes in the 
country of the Crows. After parting with Captain Bonneville 
on the banks of the Bighorn, he made for the west, to trap 
upon Powder and Tongue Kivers. He had between twenty 
and thirty men with him, and about one hundred horses. So 
large a cavalcade could not pass through the Crow country 
without attracting the attention of its freebooting hordes. A 
large band of Crows were soon on their traces, and came up 
with them on the 5th of September, just as they had reached 
Tongue Eiver. The Crow chief came forward with great ap- 
pearance of friendship, and proposed to Fitzpatrick that they 
should encamp together. The latter, however, not having any 
faith in Crows, declined the invitation, and pitched his camp 
three miles off. He then rode over with two or three men, to 
visit the Crow chief, by whom he was received with great ap- 
parent cordiality. In the meantime, however, a party of 
young braves, who considered them absolved by his distrust 
from all scruples of honor, made a circuit privately, and 
dashed into his encampment. Captain Stewart, who had re- 
mained there in the absence of Fitzpatrick, behaved with great 
spirit ; but the Crows were too numerous and active. They 
had got possession of the camp, and soon made booty of every- 
thing — carrying off all the horses. On their way back they 
met Fitzpatrick returning to his camp ; and finished their ex- 
ploit by rifling and nearly stripping him. 

A negotiation took place between the plundered white men 
and the triumphant Crows ; what eloquence and management 
Fitzpatrick made use of we do not know, but he succeeded in 
prevailing upon the Crow chieftain to return him his horses 
and many of his traps, together with his rifles and a few 
rounds of ammunition for each man. He then set out with all 
speed to abandon the Crow country, before he should meet 
with any fresh disasters. 

After his departure, the consciences of some of the most 
orthodox Crows pricked them sorely for having suffered such 
a cavalcade to escape out of their hands. Anxious to wipe off 
so foul a stigma on the reputation of the Crow nation, they 
followed on his trail, nor quit hovering about him on his 
march until they had stolen a number of his best horses and 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 171 

mules. It was, doubtless, this same band which came upon 
the lonely trapper on the Popo Agie, and generously gave him 
an old buffalo robe in exchange for his rifle, his traps, and all 
his accoutrements. With these anecdotes, we shall, for the 
present, take our leave of the Crow country and its vagabond 
chivalry. 



CHAPTER XXVIIX. 

A REGION OF NATURAL CURIOSITIES— THE PLAIN OF WHITE CLAY 
— HOT SPRINGS — THE BEER SPRING— DEPARTURE TO SEEK THE 
FREE TRAPPERS — PLAIN OF PORTNEUF — LAVA— CHASMS AND 
GULLIES— BANNECK INDIANS— THEIR HUNT OF THE BUFFALO— 
HUNTERS' FEAST — TRENCHER HEROES — BULLYING OF AN AB- 
SENT FOE— THE DAMP COMRADE — THE INDIAN SPY — MEETING 
WITH HODGKISS — HIS ADVENTURES — POORDEVIL INDIANS — 
TRIUMPH OF THE BANNECKS — BLACKFEET POLICY IN WAR. 

Crossing an elevated ridge, Captain Bonneville now came 
upon Bear River, which, from its source to its entrance into 
the Great Salt Lake, describes the figures of a horse-shoe. 
One of the principal head waters of this river, although sup- 
posed to abound with beaver, has never been visited by the 
trapper; rising among rugged mountains, and being barri- 
cadoed by fallen pine trees and tremendous precipices. 

Proceeding down this river, the party encamped, on the 6th 
of November, at the outlet of a lake about thirty miles long, 
and from two to three miles in width, completely imbedded in 
low ranges of mountains, and connected with Bear River by 
an impassable swamp. It is called the Little Lake, to distin- 
guish it from the great one of salt water. 

On the 10th of November, Captain Bonneville visited a place 
in the neighborhood which is quite a region of natural curiosi- 
ties. An area of about half a mile square presents a level sur- 
face of white clay or fuller's earth, perfectly spotless, resem- 
bling a great slab of Parian marble, or a sheet of dazzling 
snow. The effect is strikingly beautiful at all times ; in sum- 
mer, when it is surrounded with verdure, or in autumn, when 
it contrasts its bright immaculate surface with the withered 
herbage. Seen from a distant eminence, it then shines like a 
mirror, set in the brown landscape, Around this plain are 



172 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

clustered numerous springs of various sizes and temperatures, 
One of them of scalding heat, boils furiously and incessantly, 
rising to the height of two or three feet. In another place there 
is an aperture in the earth from which rushes a column of 
steam that forms a perpetual cloud. The ground for some dis- 
tance around sounds hollow, and startles the solitary trapper, 
as he hears the tramp of his horse giving the sound of a 
muffled drum. He pictures to himself a mysterious gulf be- 
low, a place of hidden fires, and gazes round him with awe and 
uneasiness. 

The most noted curiosity, however, of this singular region is 
the Beer Spring, of which trappers give wonderful accounts. 
They are said to turn aside from their route through the 
country to drink of its waters, with as much eagerness as the 
Arab seeks some famous well of the desert. Captain Bonne- 
ville describes it as having the taste of beer. His men drank 
it with avidity, and in copious draughts. It did not appear to 
him to possess any medicinal properties, or to produce any 
peculiar effects. The Indians, however, refuse to taste it, and 
endeavor to persuade the white men from doing so. 

We have heard this also called the Soda Spring, and de- 
scribed as containing iron and sulphur. It probably possesses 
some of the properties of the Ballston water. 

The time had now arrived for Captain Bonneville to go in 
quest of the party of free trappers, detached in the beginning 
of July, under the command of Mr. Hodgkiss to trap upon the 
head waters of Salmon Eiver. His intention was to unite 
them with the party with which he was at present travelling, 
that all might go into quarters together for the winter. Ac- 
cordingly, on the 11th of November, he took a temporary 
leave of his band, appointing a rendezvous on Snake River, 
and, accompanied by three men, set out upon his journey. His 
route lay across the plain of the Portneuf , a tributary stream 
of Snake Eiver, called after an unfortunate Canadian trapper 
murdered by the Indians. The whole country through which 
he passed, bore evidence of volcanic convulsions and confla- 
grations in the olden time. Great masses of lava lay scattered 
about in every direction : the crags and cliffs had apparently 
been under the action of fire ; the rocks in some places seemed 
to have been in a state of fusion ; the plain was rent and split 
with deep chasms and gullies, some of which were partly filled 
with lava. 

They had not proceedecl far, however, before they saw a 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 173 

party of horsemen galloping full tilt toward them. They 
instantly turned, and made full speed for the covert of a 
woody stream, to fortify themselves among the trees. The 
Indians came to a halt, and one of them came forward alone. 
He reached Captain Bonneville and his men just as they were 
dismounting and ahout to post themselves. A few words 
dispelled all uneasiness. It was a party of twenty-five Ban- 
neck Indians, friendly to the whites, and they proposed, 
through their envoy, that both parties should encamp to- 
gether, and hunt the buffalo, of which they had discovered 
several large herds hard by. Captain Bonneville cheerfully 
assented to their proposition, being curious to see their man- 
ner of hunting. 

Both parties accordingly encamped together on a convenient 
spot, and prepared for the hunt. The Indians first posted a 
boy on a small hill near the camp, to keep a lookout for 
enemies. The " runners," then, as they are called, mounted 
on fleet horses, and armed with bows. and arrows, moved 
slowly and cautiously toward the buffalo, keeping as much as 
possible out of sight, in hollows and ravines. When within 
a proper distance, a signal was given, and they all opened at 
once like a pack of hounds, with a full chorus of yells, dashing 
into the midst of the herds, and launching their arrows to the 
right and left. The plain seemed absolutely to shake under 
the tramp of the buffalo, as they scoured off. The cows in 
headlong panic, the bulls furious with rage, uttering deep 
roars, and occasionally turning with a desperate rush upon 
their pursuers. Nothing could surpass the spirit, grace, and 
dexterity, with which the Indians managed their horses; 
wheeling and coursing among the affrighted herd, and launch- 
ing their arrows with unerring aim. In the midst of the 
apparent confusion, they selected their victims with perfect 
judgment, generally aiming at the fattest of the cows, the 
flesh of the bull being nearly worthless at this season of the 
year. In a few minutes, each of the hunters had crippled 
three or four cows. A single shot was sufficient for the pur- 
pose, and the animal, once maimed, was left to be completely 
dispatched at the end of the chase. Frequently a cow was 
killed on the spot by a single arrow. In one instance, Captain 
Bonneville saw an Indian shoot his arrow completely through 
the body of a cow, so that it struck in the ground beyond. 
The bulls, however, are not so easily killed as the cows, and 
always cost the hunter several arrows, sometimes making 



174 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

battle upon the horses, and chasing them furiously, though 
severely wounded, with the darts still sticking in their flesh. 

The grand scamper of the hunt being over, the Indians 
proceeded to dispatch the animals that had been disabled; 
then cutting up the carcasses, they returned with loads of 
meat to the camp, where the choicest pieces were soon roast- 
ing before large fires, and a hunters' feast succeeded ; at which 
Captain Bonneville and his men were qualified, by previous 
fasting, to perform their parts with great vigor. 

Some men are said to wax valorous upon a full stomach, 
and such seemed to be the case with the Banneck braves, 
who, in proportion as they crammed themselves with buffalo 
meat, grew stout of heart, until, the supper at an end, they 
began to chant war songs, setting forth their mighty deeds, 
and the victories they had gained over the Blackfeet. Warm- 
ing with the theme, and inflating themselves with their own 
eulogies, these magnanimous heroes of the trencher would 
start up, advance a short distance beyond the fight of the 
fires, and apostrophize most vehemently their Blackfeet 
enemies, as though they had been within hearing. Euffling 
and swelling, and snorting, and slapping their breasts, and 
brandishing their arms, they would vociferate all their ex- 
ploits ; reminding the Blackfeet how they had drenched their 
towns in tears and blood; enumerate the blows they had 
inflicted, the warriors they had slain, the scalps they had 
brought off in triumph. Then, having said everything that 
could stir a man's spleen or pique his valor, they would dare 
their imaginary hearers, now that the Bannecks were few in 
number, to come and take their revenge — receiving no reply 
to this valorous bravado, they would conclude by all kinds of 
sneers and insults, deriding the Blackfeet for dastards and 
poltroons, that dared not accept their challenge. Such is the 
kind of swaggering and rhodomontade in which the u red 
men" are prone to indulge in their vainglorious moments ; for, 
with all their vaunted taciturnity, they are vehemently prone 
at times to become eloquent about their exploits, and to sound 
their own trumpet. 

Having vented their valor in this fierce effervescence, the 
Banneck braves gradually calmed down, lowered their crests, 
smoothed their ruffled feathers, and betook themselves to 
sleep, without placing a single guard over their camp ; so that, 
had the Blackfeet taken them at their word, but few of these 
braggart heroes might have survived for any further boasting. 



ADVENTUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 175 

On the following morning, Captain Bonneville purchased a 
supply of buffalo meat from his braggadocio friends; who, 
with all their vaporing, were in fact a very forlorn horde, 
destitute of firearms, and of almost everything that consti- 
tutes riches in savage life. The bargain concluded, the Ban- 
necks set off for their village, which was situated, they said, 
at the mouth of the Portneuf , and Captain Bonneville and his 
companions shaped their course toward Snake River. 

Arrived on the banks of that river, he found it rapid and 
boisterous, but not too deep to be forded. In traversing it. how- 
ever, one of the horses was swept suddenly from his footing, 
and his rider was flung from the saddle into the midst of the 
stream. Both horse and horseman were extricated without any 
damage, excepting that the latter was completely drenched, so 
that it was necessary to kindle a fire to dry him. While they 
were thus occupied, one of the party looking up, perceived an 
Indian scout cautiously reconnoitring them from the summit 
of a neighboring hill. The moment he found himself discov- 
ered, he disappeared behind the hill. From his furtive move- 
ments, Captain Bonneville suspected him to be a scout from 
the Blackfeet camp, and that he had gone to report what he 
had seen to his companions. It would not do to loiter in such 
a neighborhood, so the kindling of the fire was abandoned, the 
drenched horseman mounted in dripping condition, and the 
little band pushed forward directly into the plain, going at a 
smart pace, until they had gained a considerable distance from 
the place of supposed danger. Here encamping for the night, 
in the midst of abundance of sage, or wormwood, which af- 
forded fodder for their horses, they kindled a huge fire for the 
benefit of their damp comrade, and then proceeded to prepare a 
sumptuous supper of buffalo humps and ribs, and other choice 
bits, which they had brought with them. After a hearty re- 
past, relished with an appetite unknown to city epicures, they 
stretched themselves upon their couches of skins, and under 
the starry canopy of heaven, enjoyed the sound and sweet sleep 
of hardy and well-fed mountaineers. 

They continued on their journey for several days, without 
any incident worthy of notice, and on the 19th of November, 
came upon traces of the party of which they were in search ; 
such as burned patches of prairie, and deserted camping 
grounds. All these were carefully examined, to discover, by 
their freshness or antiquity the probable time that the trap- 
pers had left them ; at length, after much wandering and in 



176 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

vestigating, they came upon the regular trail of the hunting 
party, which led into the mountains, and following it up 
briskly, came about two o'clock in the afternoon of the 20th, 
upon the encampment of Hodgkiss and his band of free trap- 
pers, in the bosom of a mountain valley. 

It will be recollected that these free trappers, who were 
masters of themselves and their movements, had refused to 
accompany Captain Bonneville back to Green Eiver in the 
preceding month of July, preferring to trap about the upper 
waters of the Salmon Eiver, where they expected to find 
plenty of beaver, and a less dangerous neighborhood. Their 
hunt had not been very successful. They had penetrated the 
great range of mountains among which some of the upper 
branches of Salmon Eiver take their rise, but had become so 
entangled among immense and almost impassable barricades 
of fallen pines, and so impeded by tremendous precipices^ that 
a great part of their season had been wasted among these 
mountains. At one time they had made their way through 
them, and reached the Boisee Eiver ; but meeting with a band 
of Banneck Indians, from whom they apprehended hostilities, 
they had again taken shelter among the mountains, where 
they were found by Captain Bonneville. In the neighborhood 
of their encampment, the captain had the good fortune to meet 
with a family of those wanderers of the mountains, emphatically 
called "les dignes de pitie," or Poordevil Indians. These, how- 
ever, appear to have forfeited the title, for they had with them 
a fine lot of skins of beaver, elk, deer, and mountain sheep. 
These, Captain Bonneville purchased from them at a fair valua- 
tion, and sent them off astonished at their own wealth, and no 
doubt objects of envy to all their pitiful tribe. 

Being now reinforced by Hodgkiss and his band of free trap- 
pers, Captain Bonneville put himself at the head of the united 
parties, and set out to rejoin those he had recently left at the 
Beer Spring that they might all go into winter quarters on 
Snake Eiver. On this route, he encountered many heavy falls 
of snow, which melted almost immediately, so as not to impede 
his march, and on the 4th of December, he found his other 
party, encamped at the very place where he had partaken in 
the buffalo hunt with the Bannecks. 

That braggart horde was encamped but about three miles off, 
and were just then in high glee and festivity, and more swag- 
gering than ever, celebrating a prodigious victory. It appeared 
that a party of their braves being out on a hunting excursion, 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 177 

discovered a band of Blackfeet moving, as they thought, to 
surprise their hunting camp. The Bannecks immediately 
posted themselves on each side of a dark ravine, through 
which the enemy must pass, and, just as they were entangled 
in the midst of it, attacked them with great fury. The Black- 
feet, struck with sudden panic, threw off their buffalo robes 
and fled, leaving one of their warriors dead on the spot. The 
victors eagerly gathered up the spoils ; but their greatest prize 
was the scalp of the Blackfoot brave. This they bore off in 
triumph to the village, where it had ever since been an object 
of the greatest exultation and rejoicing. It had been elevated 
upon a pole in the centre of the village, where the warriors 
had celebrated the scalp dance round it, with war feasts, war 
songs, and warlike harangues. It had then been given up to 
the women and boys ; who had paraded it up and down the 
village with shouts and chants and antic dances ; occasionally 
saluting it with all kinds of taunts, invectives, and revilings. 

The Blackfeet, in this affair, do not appear to have acted up 
to the character which has rendered them objects of such ter- 
ror. Indeed, their conduct in war, to the inexperienced ob- 
server is full of inconsistencies ; at one time they are headlong 
in courage, and heedless of danger ; at another time cautious 
almost to cowardice. To understand these apparent incongru- 
ities, one must know their principles of warfare. A war party, 
however triumphant, if they lose a warrior in the fight, bring 
back a cause of mourning to their people, which casts a shade 
over the glory of their achievement. Hence, the Indian is 
often less fierce and reckless in general battle than he is in a 
private brawl ; and the chiefs are checked in their boldest un- 
dertakings by the fear of sacrificing their warriors. 

This peculiarity is not confined to the Blackfeet. Among the 
Osages, says Captain Bonneville, when a warrior falls in battle, 
his comrades, though they have fought with consummate valor, 
and won a glorious victory, will leave their arms upon the field 
of battle, and returning home with dejected countenances, will 
halt without the encampment, and wait until the relatives of 
the slain come forth and invite them to mingle again wit* 
their people. / 



178 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

WINTER CAMP AT THE PORTNEUF— FINE SPRINGS— THE BANNECK 
INDIANS— THEIR HONESTY— CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE PREPARES 
FOR AN EXPEDITION— CHRISTMAS— THE AMERICAN FALLS— WILD 
SCENERY — FISHING FALLS — SNAKE INDIANS — SCENERY ON THE 
BRUNEAU — VIEW OF VOLCANIC COUNTRY FROM A MOUNTAIN — 
POWDER RIVER— SHOSHOKOES, OR ROOT DIGGERS — THEIR CHAR- 
ACTER, HABITS, HABITATIONS, DOGS— VANITY AT ITS LAST SHIFT. 

In establishing his winter camp near the Portneuf , Captain 
Bonneville had drawn off to some little distance from his Ban- 
neck friends, to avoid all annoyance from their intimacy or 
intrusions. In so doing, however, he had been obliged to take 
up his quarters on the extreme edge of the flat land, where he 
was encompassed with ice and snow, and had nothing better 
for his horses to subsist on than wormwood. The Bannecks, 
on the contrary, were encamped among fine springs of water, 
where there was grass in abundance. Some of these springs 
gush out of the earth in sufficient quantity to turn a mill ; and 
furnish beautiful streams, clear as crystal, and full of trout of 
a large size ; which may be seen darting about the transparent 
water. 

Winter now set in regularly. The snow had fallen fre- 
quently, and in large quantities, and covered the ground to the 
depth of a foot ; and the continued coldness of the weather pre- 
vented any thaw. 

By degrees, a distrust which at first subsisted between the 
Indians and the trappers, subsided, and gave way to mutual 
confidence and good- will. A few presents convinced the chiefs 
that the white men were their friends ; nor were the white men 
wanting in proofs of the honesty and good faith of their savage 
neighbors. Occasionally, the deep snow and the want of fod- 
der obliged them to turn their weakest horses out to roam in 
quest of sustenance. If they at any time strayed to the camp 
of the Bannecks, they were immediately brought back. It 
must be confessed, however, that if the stray horse happened, 
by any chance, to be in vigorous plight and good condition, 
though he was equally sure to be returned by the honest Ban- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 179 

necks, yet it was always after the lapse of several days, and in 
a very gaunt and jaded state; and always with the remark 
that they had found him a long way off. The uncharitable 
were apt to surmise that he had. in the interim, been well used 
up in a buffalo hunt ; but those accustomed to Indian morality 
in the matter of horseflesh, considered it a singular evidence of 
honesty that he should be brought back at all. 

Being convinced, therefore, from these, and other circum- 
stances, that his people were encamped in the neighborhood of 
a tribe as honest as they were valiant, and satisfied that they 
would pass their winter unmolested, Captain Bonneville pre- 
pared for a reconnoitring expedition of great extent and peril. 
This was, to penetrate to the Hudson's Bay establishments on 
the banks of the Columbia, and to make himself acquainted 
with the country and the Indian tribes ; it being one part of his 
scheme to establish a trading post somewhere on the lower 
part of the river, so as to participate in the trade lost to the 
United States by the capture of Astoria. This expedition 
would, of course, take him through the Snake Eiver country, 
and across the Blue Mountains, the scenes of so much hardship 
and disaster to Hunt and Crooks, and their Astorian bands, 
who first explored it, and he would have to pass through it in 
the same frightful season, the depth of v? inter. 

The idea of risk and hardship, however, only served to stim- 
ulate the adventurous spirit of the captain. He chose three 
companions for his journey, put up a small stock of necessaries 
in the most portable form, and selected five horses and mules 
for themselves and their baggage. He proposed to rejoin his 
band in the early part of March, at the winter encampment 
near the Portneuf . All these arrangements being completed, 
he mounted his horse on Christmas morning, and set off with 
his three comrades. They halted a little beyond the Banneck 
camp, and made their Christmas dinner, which, if not a very 
merry, was a very hearty one, after which they resumed their 
journey. 

They were obliged to travel slowly, to spare their horses ; for 
the snow had increased in depth to eighteen inches; and 
though somewhat packed and frozen, was not sufficiently so to 
yield firm footing. Their route lay to the west, down along 
the left side of Snake Eiver ; and they were several days in 
reaching the first, or American Falls. The banks of the river, 
for a considerable distance, both above and below the falls, 
have a volcanic character; masses of basaltic rock are piled 



180 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

one upon another; the water makes its way through their 
broken chasms, boiling through narrow channels, or pitching 
in beautiful cascades over ridges of basaltic columns. 

Beyond .these falls, they came to a picturesque, but incon- 
siderable stream, called the Cassie. It runs through a level 
valley, about four miles wide, where the soil is good ; but the 
prevalent coldness and dryness of the climate is unfavorable to 
vegetation. Near to this stream there is a small mountain of 
mica slate, including garnets. Granite, in small blocks, is 
likewise seen in this neighborhood, and white sandstone. 
From this river, the travellers had a prospect of the snowy 
heights of the Salmon Eiver Mountains to the north; the 
nearest, at least fifty miles distant. 

In pursuing his course westward, Captain Bonneville gener- 
ally kept several miles from Snake River, crossing the heads 
of its tributary streams ; though he often found the open coun- 
try so encumbered by volcanic rocks, as to render travelling 
extremely difficult. Whenever he approached Snake River, 
he found it running through a broad chasm, with steep, per- 
pendicular sides of basaltic rock. After several days' travel 
across a level plain, he came to a part of the river which filled 
him with astonishment and admiration. As far as the eye 
could reach, the river was walled in by perpendicular cliffs 
two hundred and fifty feet high, beetling like dark and gloomy 
battlements, while blocks and fragments lay in masses at their 
feet, in the midst of the boiling and whirling current. Just 
above, the whole stream pitched in one cascade above forty 
feet in height, with a thundering sound, casting up a volume 
of spray that hung in the air like a silver mist. These are 
called by some the Fishing Falls, as the salmon are taken here 
in immense quantities. They cannot get by these falls. 

After encamping at this place all night, Captain Bonneville, 
at sunrise, descended with his party through a narrow ravine, 
or rather crevice, in the vast wall of basaltic rock which bor- 
dered the river ; this being the only mode, for many miles, of 
getting to the margin of the stream. 

The snow lay in a thin crust along the banks of the river, so 
that their travelling was much more easy than it had been 
hitherto. There were foot tracks, also, made by the natives, 
which greatly facilitated their progress. Occasionally, they 
met the inhabitants of this wild region ; a timid race, and but 
scantily provided with the necessaries of life. Their dress con- 
sisted of a mantle about four feet square, formed of strips of 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BOXXEVILLE. 181 

rabbit skins sewed together ; this they hung over their shoul- 
ders, in the ordinary Indian mode of wearing the blanket. 
Their weapons were bows and arrows ; the latter tipped with 
obsidian, which abounds in the neighborhood. Their huts were 
shaped like haystacks, and constructed of branches of willow 
covered with long grass, so as to be warm and comfortable. 
Occasionally, they were surrounded by small inclosures of 
wormwood, about three feet high, which gave them a cottage- 
like appearance, Three or four of these tenements were oc- 
casionally grouped together in some wild and striking situa- 
tion, and had a picturesque effect. Sometimes they were in 
sufficient number to form a small hamlet. From these people 
Captain Bonneville's party frequently purchased salmon, dried 
in an admirable manner, as were likewise the roes. This 
seemed to be their prime article of food; but they were ex- 
tremely anxious to get buffalo meat in exchange. 

The high walls and rocks, within which the travellers had 
been so long inclosed, now occasionally presented openings, 
through which they were enabled to ascend to the plain, and 
to cut off considerable bends of the river. 

Throughout the whole extent of this vast and singular chasm, 
the scenery of the- river is said to be of the most wild and ro- 
mantic character. The rocks present every variety of masses 
and grouping. Numerous small streams come rushing and 
boiling through narrow clefts and ravines ; one of a considerable 
size issued from the face of a precipice, within twenty-five feet 
of its summit ; and after running in nearly a horizontal line for 
about one hundred feet, fell, bv numerous small cascades, to 

J- 7 */ 

the rocky bank of the river. 

In its career through this vast and singular defile. Snake 
River is upward of three hundred yards wide, and as clear as 
spring water. Sometimes it steals along with a tranquil and 
noiseless course ; at other times, for miles and miles, it dashes 
on in a thousand rapids, wild and beautiful to the eye, and 
lulling the ear with the soft tumult of plashing waters. 

Many of the tributary streams of Snake River, rival it in the 
wildness and picturesqueness of their scenery. That called the 
Bruneau is particularly cited. It runs through a tremendous 
chasm, rather than a valley, extending upward of a hundred 
and fifty miles. You come upon it on a sudden, in traversing 
a level plain. It seems as if you could throw a stone across 
from cliff to cliff ; yet, the valley is near two thousand feet 
deep; so that the river looks like an inconsiderable stream. 



182 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

Basaltic rocks rise perpendicularly, so that it is impossible to 
get from the plain to the water, or from the river margin to 
the plain. The current is bright and limpid. Hot spring^ are 
found on the borders of this river. One bursts out of the cliffs 
forty feet above the river in a stream sufficient to turn a mill, 
and sends up a cloud of vapor. 

We find a characteristic picture of this volcanic region of 
mountains and streams, furnished by the journal of Mr. 
Wyeth, which lies before us; who ascended a peak in the 
neighborhood we are describing. From this summit, the coun- 
try, he says, appears an indescribable chaos ; the tops of the 
hills exhibit the same strata as far as the eye can reach ; and 
appear to have once formed the level of the country ; and the 
valleys to be formed by the sinking of the earth, rather than 
the rising of the hills. Through the deep cracks and chasms 
thus formed, the rivers and brooks make their way, which 
renders it difficult to follow them. All these basaltic channels 
are called cut rocks by the trappers. Many of the mountain 
streams disappear in the plains; either absorbed by their 
thirsty soil, and by the porous surface of the lava, or swallowed 
up in gulfs and chasms. 

On the 12th of January (1834), Captain Bonneville reached 
Powder River ; much the largest stream that he had seen since 
leaving the Portneuf. He struck it about three miles above 
its entrance into Snake River. Here he found himself above 
the lower narrows and defiles of the latter river, and in an 
open and level country. The natives now made their appear- 
ance in considerable numbers, and evinced the most insatiable 
curiosity respecting the white men ; sitting in groups for hours 
together, exposed to the bleakest winds, merely for the pleas- 
ure of gazing upon the strangers, and watching every move- 
ment. These are of that branch of the great Snake tribe 
called Shoshokoes, or Root Diggers, from their subsisting, in a 
great measure, on the roots of the earth ; though they likewise 
take fish in great quantities, and hunt, in a small way. They 
are, in general, very poor ; destitute of most of the comforts of 
life, and extremely indolent; but a mild, inoffensive race. 
They differ, in many respects, from the other branch of the 
Snake tribe, the Shoshonies; who possess horses, are more 
roving and adventurous, and hunt the buffalo. 

On the following day, as Captain Bonneville approached the 
mouth of Powder River, he discovered at least a hundred fami- 
lies of these Diggers, as they are familiarly called, assembled 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 183 

in one place. The women and children kept at a distance, 
perched among the rocks and cliffs ; their eager curiosity being 
somewhat dashed with fear. From their elevated posts, they 
scrutinized the strangers with the most intense earnestness ; 
regarding them with almost as much awe as if they had been 
beings of a supernatural order. 

The men, however, were by no means so shy and reserved ; 
but importuned Captain Bonneville and his companions exces- 
sively by their curiosity. Nothing escaped their notice ; and 
any thing they could lay their hands on, underwent the most 
minute examination. To get rid of such inquisitive neighbors, 
the travellers kept on for a considerable distance, before they 
encamped for the night. 

The country, hereabout, was generally level and sandy ; pro- 
ducing very little grass, but a considerable quantity of sage or 
wormwood. The plains were diversified by isolated hills, all 
cut off as it were, about the same height, so as to have tabular 
summits. In this they resembled the isolated hills of the great 
prairies, east of the Rocky Mountains ; especially those found 
on the plains of the Arkansas. 

The high precipices which had hitherto walled in the chan- 
nel of Snake River had now disappeared ; and the banks were 
of the ordinary height. It should be observed, that the great 
valleys or plains, through which the Snake River wound its 
course, were generally of great breadth, extending on each side 
from thirty to forty miles ; where the view was bounded by 
unbroken ridges of mountains. 

The travellers found but little snow in the neighborhood of 
Powder River, though the weather continued intensely cold. 
They learned a lesson, however, from their forlorn friends, the 
Root Diggers, which they subsequently found of great service 
in their wintry wanderings. They frequently observed them 
to be furnished with long ropes, twisted from the bark of the 
wormwood. This they used as a slow match, carrying it 
always lighted. Whenever they wished to warm themselves, 
they would gather together a little dry wormwood, apply the 
match, and in an instant produce a cheering blaze. 

Captain Bonneville gives a cheerless account of a village of 
these Diggers, which he saw in crossing the plain below Pow- 
der River. " They live," says he, "without any further pro- 
tection from the inclemency of the season, than a sort of 
breakweather, about three feet high, composed of sage (or 
wormwood), and erected around them in the shape of a half 



184 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

moon." Whenever he met with them, however, they had ai 
ways a large suite of half -starved dogs ; for these animals, in 
savage as well as in civilized life, seem to be the concomitants 
of beggary. 

These dogs, it must be allowed, were of more use than the 
beggarly curs of cities. The Indian children used them in 
hunting the small game of the neighborhood, such as rabbits 
and prairie dogs; in which mongrel kind of chase they ac 
.quitted themselves with some credit. 

Sometimes the Diggers aspire to a nobler game, and succeed 
in entrapping the antelope, the fleetest animal of the prairies. 
The process by which this is effected is somewhat singular. 
When the snow has disappeared, says Captain Bonneville, and 
the ground become soft, the women go into the thickest fields 
of wormwood, and pulling it up in great quantities, construct 
with it a hedge about three feet high, inclosing about a hundred 
acres. A single opening is left for the admission of the game. 
This done, the women conceal themselves behind the worm- 
wood, and wait patiently for the coming of the antelopes; 
which sometimes enter this spacious trap in considerable num- 
bers. As soon as they are in, the women give the signal, and 
the men hasten to play their part. But one of them enters the 
pen at a time ; and, after chasing the terrified animals round 
the inclosure, is relieved by one of his companions. In this 
way the hunters take their turns, relieving each other, and 
keeping up a continued pursuit by relays, without fatigue to 
themselves. The poor antelopes, in the end, are so wearied 
down, that the whole party of men enter and dispatch them 
with clubs ; not one escaping that has entered the inclosure. 
The most curious circumstance in this chase is, that an animal 
so fleet and agile as the antelope, and straining for its life, 
should range round and round this fated inclosure, without 
attempting to overleap the low barrier which surrounds it. 
Such, however, is said to be the fact; and such their only mode 
of hunting the antelope. 

Notwithstanding the absence of all comfort and convenience 
in their habitations, and the general squalidness of their appear- 
ance, the Shoshokoes do not appear to be destitute of ingenuity.* 
They manufacture good ropes, and even a tolerably fine thread, 
from a sort of weed found in their neighborhood ; and construct 
bowls and jugs out of a kind of basket-work formed from small 
strips of wood plaited ; these, by the aid of a little wax, they 
render perfectly water tight. Beside the roots on which they 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 185 

mainly depend for subsistence, they collect great quantities of 
seed, of various kinds, beaten with one hand out of the tops of 
the plants into wooden bowls held for that purpose. The seed 
thus collected is winnowed and parched, and ground between 
two stones into a kind of meal or flour ; which, when mixed 
with water, forms a very palatable paste or gruel. 

Some of these people, more provident and industrious than 
the rest, lay up a stock of dried salmon, and other fish, for 
winter ; with these, they were ready to traffic with the travel- 
lers for any objects of utility in Indian life ; giving a large 
quantity in exchange for an awl, a knife, or a fish-hook. 
Others were in the most abject state of want and starvation; 
and would even gather up the fish-bones which the travellers 
threw away after a repast, warm them over again at the fire, 
and pick them with the greatest avidity. 

The farther Captain Bonneville advanced into the country 
of these Root Diggers, the more evidence he perceived of their 
rude and forlorn condition, "They were destitute," says he, 
" of the necessary covering to protect them from the weather; 
and seemed to be in the most unsophisticated ignorance of any 
other propriety or advantage in the use of clothing. One old 
dame had absolutely nothing on her person but a thread round 
her neck, from which was pendant a solitary bead." 

What stage of human destitution, however, is too destitute 
for vanity ! Though these naked and forlorn-looking beings 
had neither toilet to arrange, nor beauty to contemplate, their 
greatest passion was for a mirror. It was a " great medicine,' 
in their eyes. The sight of one was sufficient, at any time, to 
throw them into a paroxysm of eagerness and delight; and 
they were ready to give anything they had for the smallest 
fragment in which they might behold their squalid features. 
With this simple instance of vanity, in its primitive but vigor* 
ous state, we shall close our remarks on the Root Diggers. 



186 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

TEMPERATURE OF THE CLIMATE — ROOT DIGGERS ON HORSEBACK 

—AN INDIAN GUIDE — MOUNTAIN PROSPECTS — THE GRAND ROND 

j — DIFFICULTIES ON SNAKE RIVER— A SCRAMBLE OVER THE 

BLUE MOUNTAINS — SUFFERINGS FROM HUNGER— PROSPECT OF 

THE IMMAHAH VALLEY— THE EXHAUSTED TRAVELLER. 

The temperature of the regions west of the Rocky Mountains 
is much milder than in the same latitudes on the Atlantic side ; 
the upper plains, however, which lie at a distance from the sea- 
coast are subject in winter to considerable vicissitude ; being 
traversed by lofty "sierras," crowned with perpetual snow, 
which often produce flaws and streaks of intense cold. This 
was experienced by Captain Bonneville and his companions in 
their progress westward. At the time when they left the 
Bannecks, Snake River was frozen hard; as they proceeded, 
the ice became broken and floating; it gradually disappeared, 
and the weather became warm and pleasant, as they ap- 
proached a tributary stream called the Little Wyer; and the 
soil, which was generally of a watery clay, with occasional in- 
tervals of sand, was soft to the tread of the horses. After a 
time, however, the mountains approached and flanked the 
river, the snow lay deep in the valleys, and the current was 
once more icebound. 

Here they were visited by a party of Root Diggers, who 
were apparently rising in the world, for they had "a horse to 
ride and weapon to wear," and were altogether better clad and 
equipped than any of the tribe that Captain Bonneville had 
met with. They were just from the plain of Boisee River, 
where they had left a number of their tribe, all as well pro- 
vided as themselves, having guns, horses, and comfortable 
clothing. All these they obtained from the Lower Nez Perces, 
with whom they were in habits of frequent traffic. They ap- 
peared to have imbibed from that tribe their non-combative 
principles, being mild and inoffensive in their manners. Like 
them, also, they had something of religious feelings ; for Cap- 
tain Bonneville observed that, before eating they washed their 
hands and made a short prayer ; which he understood was 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 187 

their invariable custom. From these Indians he obtained a 
considerable supply of fish, and an excellent and well-condi- 
tioned horse, to replace one which had become too weak for 
the journey. 

The travellers now moved forward with renovated spirits ; 
the snow, it is true, lay deeper and deeper as they advanced, 
but they trudged on merrily, considering themselves well 
provided for the journey, which could not be of much longer 
duration. 

They had intended to proceed up the banks of Gun Creek, a 
stream which flows into Snake River from the west ; but were 
assured by the natives that the route in that direction was 
impracticable. The latter advised them to keep along Snake 
River, where they would not be impeded by the snow. Tak- 
ing one of the Diggers for a guide they set off along the river, 
and to their joy soon found the country free from snow, as 
had been predicted, so that their horses once more had the 
benefit of tolerable pasturage. Their Digger proved an excel- 
lent guide, trudging cheerily in the advance. He made an 
unsuccessful shot or two ai; a deer and a beaver ; but at night 
found a rabbit hole, whence he extracted the occupant, upon 
winch, with the addition of a fish given by the travellers, he 
made a hearty supper, and retired to rest, filled with good 
cheer and good humor. 

The next day the travellers came to where the hills closed 
upon the river, leaving here and there intervals of undulating 
meadow land. The river was sheeted with ice, broken into 
hills at long intervals. The Digger kept on ahead of the party, 
crossing and recrossing the river in pursuit of game, until, 
unluckily, encountering a brother Digger, he stole off with 
him, without the ceremony of leave-taking. 

Being now left to themselves, they proceeded until they 
came to some Indian huts, the inhabitants of which spoke 
a language totally different from any they had yet heard, j 
One, however, understood the Nez Perce language, and 
through him they made inquiries as to their route. These 
Indians were extremely kind and honest, and furnished them 
with a small quantity of meat ; but none of them could be in- 
duced to act as guides. 

Immediately in the route of the travellers lay a high moun- 
tain, which they ascended with some difficulty. The prospect 
from the summit was grand but disheartening. Directly be- 
fore them towered the loftiest peaks of Immahah rising far 



188 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

higher than the elevated ground on which they stood ; on the 
other hand, they were enabled to scan the course of the river, 
dashing along through deep chasms, between rocks and preci- 
pices, until lost in a distant wilderness of mountains, which 
closed the savage landscape. 

They remained for a long time contemplating, with per- 
plexed and anxious eye, this wild congregation of mountain 
barriers, and seeking to discover some practicable passage 
The approach of evening obliged them to give up the task, and 
to seek some camping ground for the night. Moving briskly 
forward, and plunging and tossing through a succession of 
deep snow-drifts, they at length reached a valley known 
among trappers as the " Grand Eond, 5> which they found 
entirely free from snow. 

This is a beautiful and very fertile valley, about twenty 
miles long and five or six broad ; a bright cold stream called 
the Fourche de Glace, or Ice Eiver, runs through it. Its 
sheltered situation, embosomed in mountain^, renders it good 
pasturing ground in the winter time ; when the elk come down 
to it in great numbers, driven out of the mountains by the 
snow. The Indians then resort to it to hunt. They likewise 
come to it in the summer to dig the camash root, of which it 
produces immense quantities. When this plant is in blossom, 
the whole valley is tinted by its blue flowers, and looks like 
the ocean when overcast by a cloud. s 

After passing a night in this valley, the travellers in the 
morning scaled the neighboring hills, to look out for a more 
eligible route than that upon which they had unluckily fallen ; 
and, after much reconnoitring determined to make their way 
once more to the river, and to travel upon the ice when the 
banks should prove impassable. 

On the second day after this determination, they were again 
upon Snake Eiver, but, contrary to their expectations, it was 
nearly free from ice. A narrow ribbon ran along the shore, 
and sometimes there was a kind of bridge across the stream, 
formed of old ice and snow. For a short time, they jogged 
along the bank, with tolerable facility, but at length came to 
where the river forced its way into the heart of the mountains, 
winding between tremendous walls of basaltic rock, that rose 
perpendicularly from the water's edge, frowning in bleak and 
gloomy grandeur. Here difficulties of all kinds beset their 
path. The snow was from two to three feet deep, but soft and 
yielding, so that the horses had no foothold, but kept plunging 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 189 

forward, straining themselves by perpetual efforts. Some- 
times the crags and promontories forced them upon the 
narrow ribbon of ice that bordered the shore ; sometimes they 
bad to scramble over vast masses of rock which had tumbled 
from the impending precipices ; sometimes they had to cross 
the stream upon the hazardous bridges of ice and snow, sink- 
ing to the knee at every step ; sometimes they had to scale 
slippery acclivities, and to pass along narrow cornices, glazed 
with ice and sleet, a shouldering wall of rock on one side, a 
yawning precipice on the other, where a single false step would 
have been fatal. In a lower and less dangerous pass, two of 
their horses actually fell into the river; one was saved with 
much difficulty, but the boldness of the shore prevented their 
rescuing the other, and he was swept away by the rapid 
current. 

In this way they struggled forward, manfully braving diffi- 
culties and dangers, until they came to where the bed of the 
river was narrowed to a mere chasm, with perpendicular 
walls of rock that defied all further progress. Turning their 
faces now to the mountain, they endeavored to cross directly 
over it; but, after clambering nearly to the summit, found 
their path closed by insurmountable barriers. 

Nothing now remained but to retrace their steps. To 
descend a cragged mountain, however, was more difficult and 
dangerous than to ascend it. They had to lower themselves, 
cautiously and slowly, from steep to steep ; and, while they 
managed with difficulty to maintain their own footing, to aid 
their horses by holding on firmly to the rope halters, as the 
poor animals stumbled among slippery rocks, or slid down icy 
declivities. Thus, after a day of intense cold, and severe and 
incessant toil, amid the wildest of scenery, they managed, 
about nightfall, to reach the camping ground from which they 
had started in the morning, and for the first time in the course 
of their rugged and perilous expedition, felt their hearts quail- 
ing under their multiplied hardships. 

A hearty supper, a tranquillizing pipe, and a sound night's 
sleep, put them all in better mood, and in the morning they 
held a consultation as to their future movements. About four 
miles behind, they had remarked a small ridge of mountains 
approaching closely to the river. It was determined to scale 
this ridge, and seek a passage into the valley which must He 
beyond. Should they fail in this, but one alternative re- 
mained. To kill their horses, dry the flesh for provisions, 



190 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

make boats of the hides, and, in these, commit themselves to 
the stream, a measure hazardous in the extreme. 

A short march brought them to the foot of the mountain, 
but its steep and cragged sides almost discouraged hope. The 
only chance of scaling it was by broken masses of rock, piled 
one upon another, which formed a succession of crags, reach- 
ing nearly to the summit. Up these they wrought their way 
with indescribable difficulty and peril, in a zigzag course, 
climbing from rock to rock, and helping their horses up after 
them ; which scrambled among the crags like mountain goats ; 
now and then dislodging some huge stone, which, the moment 
they had left it, would roll down the mountain, crashing and 
rebounding with terrific din. It was some time after dark 
before they reached a kind of platform on the summit of the 
mountain, where they could venture to encamp. The winds, 
which swept this naked height, had whirled all the snow into 
the valley beneath, so that the horses found tolerable winter 
pasturage on the dry grass which remained exposed. The 
travellers, though hungry in the extreme, were fain to make a 
very frugal supper; for they saw their journey was likely to 
be prolonged much beyond the anticipated term. 

In fact, on the following day they discerned that, although 
already at a great elevation, they were only as yet upon the 
shoulder of the mountain. It proved to be a great sierra, or 
ridge, of immense height, running parallel to the course of 
the river, swelling by degrees to lofty peaks, but the outline 
gashed by deep and precipitous ravines. This, in fact, was a 
part of the chain of Blue Mountains, in which the first adven- 
turers to Astoria experienced such hardships. 

We will not pretend to accompany the travellers step by 
step in this tremendous mountain scramble, into which they 
had unconsciously betrayed themselves. Day after day did 
their toil continue; peak after peak had they to traverse, 
struggling with difficulties and hardships known only to the 
mountain trapper. As their course lay north, they had to 
ascend the southern faces of the heights, where the sun had 
melted the snow, so as to render the ascent wet and slippery, 
and to keep both men and horses continually on the strain ; 
while on the northern sides, the snow lay in such heavy masses 
that it wias necessary to beat a track down which the horses 
might be led. Every now and then, also, their way was im- 
peded by tall and numerous pines, some of which had fallen^ 
and lay in every direction. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 191 

In the midst of these toils and hardships, their provisions 
gave out. For three days they were without food, and so re- 
duced that they could scarcely drag themselves along. At 
length, one of the mules being aBout to give out from fatigue 
and famine, they hastened to dispatch him. Husbanding this 
miserable supply, they dried the flesh, and for three days sub- 
sisted upon the nutriment extracted from the bones. As to 
the meat, it was packed and preserved as long as they could 
do without it, not knowing how long they might remain be- 
wildered in these desolate regions. 

One of the men was now dispatched ahead, to reconnoitre 
the country, and to discover, if possible, some more practi- 
cable route. In the meantime, the rest of the party moved 
on slowly. After a lapse of three days, the scout rejoined 
them. He informed them that Snake River ran immediately 
below the sierra or mountainous ridge upon which they were 
travelling; that it was free from precipices, and was at no 
great distance from them in a direct line ; but that it would bo 
impossible for them to reach it without making a weary cir- 
cuit. Their only course would be to cross the mountain ridge 
to the left. 

Up this mountain, therefore, the weary travellers directed 
their steps; and the ascent, in their present weak and ex- 
hausted state, was one of the severest parts of this most pain- 
ful journey. For two days were they toiling slowly from cliff 
to cliff, beating at every step a path through the snow for their 
faltering horses. At length they reached the summit, where 
the snow was blown off; but in descending on the opposite 
side they were often plunging through deep drifts piled in the 
hollows and ravines. 

Their provisions were now exhausted, and they and their 
horses almost ready to give out with fatigue and hunger ; when 
one afternoon, just as the sun was sinking behind a blue line 
of distant mountain, they came to the brow of a height from 
which they beheld the smooth valley of the Immahah stretched 
out in smiling verdure below them. 

The sight inspired almost a frenzy of delight. Roused to 
new ardor, they forgot for a time their fatigues, and hurried 
down the mountain, dragging their jaded horses after them, 
and sometimes compelling them to slide a distance of thirty or 
forty feet at a time. At length they reached the banks of the 
Immahah. The young grass was just beginning to sprout, and 
the whole valley wore an aspect of softness, verdure, and re- 



192 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

pose, heightened by the contrast of the frightful region from 
which they had just descended. To add to their joy, they ob- 
served Indian trails along the margin of the stream, and other 
signs, which gave them reason to believe that there was an en- 
campment of the Lower Nez Perces in the neighborhood, as it 
was within the accustomed range of that pacific and hospitable 
tribe. 

The prospect of a supply of food stimulated them to new 
exertion, and they continued on as fast as the enfeebled state 
of themselves and their steeds would permit. At length, one 
of the men, more exhausted than the rest, threw himself upon 
the grass, and declared he could go no further. It was in vain 
to attempt to arouse him; his spirit had given out, and his re- 
plies only showed the dogged apathy of despair. His com- 
panions, therefore, encamped on the spot, kindled a blazing 
fire, and searched about for roots with which to strengthen 
and revive him. They all then made a starveling repast ; 
but gathering round the fire, talked over past dangers and 
troubles, spothed themselves with the persuasion that all were 
now at an end, and went to sleep with the comforting hope 
that the morrow would bring them into plentiful quarters. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

PROGRESS IN THE VALLEY—AN INDIAN CAVALIER— THE CAPTAlT* 
FALLS INTO A LETHARGY — A NEZ PERCE PATRIARCH — HOSPITA- 
BLE TREATMENT— THE BALD HEAD — BARGAINING -VA^UE OF AN 
OLD PLAID CLOAK— THE FAMILY HORSE — THE COST OF AN IN- 
DIAN PRESENT. 

A tranquil night's rest had sufficiently restored the broken 
down traveller to enable him to resume his wayfaring, and all 
hands set forward on the Indian trail. With all their eager- 
ness to arrive within reach of succor, such was their feeble and 
emaciated condition that they advanced but slowly. Nor is it 
a matter of surprise that they should almost have lost heart, as 
well as strength. It was now (the 16th of February) fifty -three 
days that they had been travelling in the midst of winter, ex- 
posed to all kinds of privations and hardships ; and for the last 
twenty days they had been entangled in the wild and desolate 



ADVMTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 193 

labyrinths of the snowy mountains ; climbing and descending 
icy precipices, and nearly starved with cold and hunger. 

All the morning they continued following the Indian trail, 
without seeing a human being, and were beginning to be dis- 
couraged when, about noon, they discovered a horsemen at a 
distance. He was coming directly toward them; but on dis- 
covering them, suddenly reined up his steed, came to a halt, 
and, after reconnoitring them for a time with great earnest- 
ness, seemed about to make a cautious retreat. They eagerly 
made signs of peace, and endeavored, with the utmost anxiety, 
to induce him to approach. He remained for some time in 
doubt ; but at length, having satisfied himself that they were 
not enemies, came galloping up to them. He was, a fine, 
haughty-looking savage, fancifully decorated, and mounted on 
a high-mettled steed, with gaudy trappings and equipments. 
It was evident that he was a warrior of some consequence 
among his tribe. His whole deportment had something in it 
of barbaric dignity ; he felt perhaps his temporary superiority 
in personal array, and in the spirit of his steed, to the poor, 
ragged, travel-worn trappers and their half-starved horses. 
Approaching them with an air of protection, he gave them his 
hand, and, in the Nez Perce language invited them to his 
camp, which was only a few miles distant ; where he had plenty 
to eat, and plenty of horses, and would cheerfully share his 
good things with them. 

His hospitable invitation was joyfully accepted ; he fingered 
but a moment, to give directions by which they might find his 
camp, and then, wheeling round, and giving the reins to his 
mettlesome steed, was soon out of sight. The travellers fol- 
lowed, with gladdened hearts, but at a snail's pace ; for their 
poor horses could scarcely drag one leg after the other. Cap- 
tain Bonneville, however, experienced a sudden and singular 
change of feeling. Hitherto, the necessity of conducting his 
party, and of providing against every emergency, had kept his 
mind upon the stretch, and his whole system braced and ex- 
cited. In no one instance had he flagged in spirit or felt dis= 
posed to succumb. Now, however, that all danger was over, 
and the march of a few miles would bring them to repose and 
abundance, his energies suddenly deserted him; and every 
faculty, mental and physical, vas totally relaxed. He had not 
proceeded two miles from the point where he had had the in- 
terview with the Nez Perce chief, when he threw himself upon 
the earth, without the power or will to move a muscle, or exert 



194 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

a thought, and sank almost instantly into a profound and 
dreamless sleep. His companions again came to a halt, and 
encamped beside him, and there they passed the night. 

The next morning Captain Bonneville awakened from hi? 
long and heavy sleep, much refreshed ; and they all resumed 
their creeping progress. They had not long been on the march 
when eight or ten of the Nez Perce tribe came galloping to 
meet them, leading fresh horses to bear them to their camp. 
Thus gallantly mounted, they felt new life infused into their 
languid frames, and dashing forward, were soon at the lodges 
of the Nez Perces. Here they found about twelve families liv- 
ing together, under the patriarchal sway of an ancient and 
venerable chief. He received them with the hospitality of the 
golden age, and with something of the same kind of fare ; for, 
while he opened his arms to make them welcome, the only re- 
past he set before them consisted of roots. They could have 
wished for something more hearty and substantial; but, for 
want of better, made a voracious meal on these humble viands. 
The repast being over, the best pipe was lighted and sent 
round ; and this was a most welcome luxury, having lost their 
smoking apparatus twelve days before, among the mountains. 

While they were thus enjoying themselves, their poor horses 
were led to Xhe best pastures in the neighborhood, where they 
were turned loose to revel on the fresh sprouting grass; so that 
they liad better fare than their masters. 

Captain Bonneville soon felt himself quite at home among 
these quiet, inoffensive people. His long residence among their 
cousins, the Upper Nez Perces, had made him conversant with 
their language, modes of expression, and all their habitudes. 
He soon found, too, that he was well known among them, by 
report, at least, from the constant interchange of visits and 
messages between the two branches of the tribe. They at first 
addressed him by his name ; giving him his title of captain, 
with a French accent ; but they soon gave him a title of their 
own which, as usual with Indian titles, had a peculiar signifi- 
cation. In the case of the captain, it had somewhat of a whim- 
sical origin. 

As he sat chatting and smoking in the midst of them, he 
would occasionally take off his cap. Whenever he did so, 
there was a sensation in the surrounding circle. The Indians 
would half rise from their recumbent posture, and gaze upon 
his uncovered head with their usual exclamation of astonish- 
ment. The worthy captain was completely bald; a phenom 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 195 

enon very surprising in their eyes. They were at a loss to 
know whether he had been scalped in battle, or enjoyed a nat- 
ural immunity from that belligerent infliction. In a little 
while he became known among them by an Indian name, sig- 
nifying * [ the bald chief. " " A sobriquet, " observes the captain, 
"for which I can find no parallel in history since the days of 
Charles the Bald." 

Although the travellers had banqueted on roots, and been re- 
galed with tobacco smoke, yet their stomachs craved more 
generous fare. In approaching the lodges of the Nez Perces 
they had indulged in fond anticipations of venison and dried 
salmon ; and dreams of the kind still haunted their imagina- 
tions, and could not be conjured down. The keen appetites 
of mountain trappers, quickened by a fortnight's fasting, at 
length got the better of all scruples of pride, and they fairly 
begged some fish or flesh from the hospitable savages. The 
latter, however, were slow to break in upon their winter store, 
which was very limited ; but were ready to furnish roots in 
abundance, which they pronounced excellent food. At length, 
Captain Bonneville thought of a means of attaining the much- 
coveted gratification. 

He had about him, he says, a trusty plaid ; an old and valued 
travelling companion and comforter ; upon which the rains had 
descended, and the snows and winds beaten, without further 
effect than somewhat to tarnish its primitive lustre. This coat 
of many colors had excited the admiration, and inflamed the 
covetousness of both warriors and squaws to an extravagant 
degree. An idea now occurred to Captain Bonneville, to con- 
vert this rainbow garment into the savory viands so much de- 
sired. There was a momentary struggle in his mind between 
old associations and projected indulgence ; and his decision in 
favor of the latter was made, he says, with a greater prompt- 
ness perhaps, than true taste and sentiment might have re- 
quired. In a few moments his plaid cloak was cut into 
numerous strips. k Of these," continues he, " with the newly 
developed talent of a man-milliner, I speedily constructed 
turbans a la Turque, and fanciful head-gears of divers confor- 
mations. These, judiciously distributed among such of the 
womenkind as seemed of most consequence and interest in 
the eyes of the patres conscripti, brought us, in a little while, 
abundance of dried salmon and deers' hearts, on which we 
made a sumptuous supper. Another, and a more satisfactory 
smoke, succeeded this repast, and sweet slumbers answering 



196 ADVENTVEES OF CAPTAIN BOMJSEVlLLJi. 

the peaceful invocation of our pipes, wrapped us m that deli 
cious rest which is only won by toil and travail.'' 

As to Captain Bonneville, he slept in the lodge of the vener 
able patriarch, who had ^evidently conceived a most disin- 
terested affection for him ; as was shown on the following 
morning. The travellers, invigorated by a good supper, and 
" fresh from the bath of repose," were about to resume their 
journey, when this affectionate old chief took the captain 
aside, to let him know how much he loved him. As a proof of 
his regard, he had determined to give him a fine horse, which 
would go farther than words, and put his good- will beyond all 
question. So saying, he made a signal, and forthwith a beau- 
tiful young horse, oi a brown color, was led, prancing and 
snorting, to the place. Captain Bonneville was suitably affected 
by this mark of friendship ; but his experience in what is pro- 
verbially called " Indian giving,' 1 made him aware that a part- 
ing pledge was necessary on his own part, to prove that Ms 
friendship was reciprocated. He accordingly placed a hand- 
some rifle in the hands of the venerable chief, whose benevo- 
lent heart was evidently touched and gratified by this outward 
and visible sign of amity. 

Having now, as he thought, balanced this little account of 
friendship, the captain was about to shift his saddle to this 
noble gift-horse, when the affectionate patriarch plucked him 
by the sleeve, and introduced to him a whimpering, whining, 
leathern- skinned old squaw, that might have passed for an 
Egyptian mummy without drying. u This," said he, "is my 
wife; she is a good wife — I love her very much. — She loves the 
horse— she loves him a great deal —she will cry very much at 
losing him. — I do not know how I shall comfort her— and that 
makes my heart very sore." 

What could the worthy captain do to console the tender- 
hearted old squaw and, peradventure, to save the venerable 
patriarch from a curtain lecture ? He bethought himself of a 
pair of ear-bobs ; it was true, the patriarch's better half was of 
an age and appearance that seemed to put personal vanity out 
of the question, but when is personal vanity extinct ? The mo- 
ment he produced the glittering ear-bobs, the whimpering and 
whining of the sempiternal beldame was at an end. She 
eagerly placed the precious baubles in her ears, and, though as 
ugly as the Witch of Endor, went off with a sideling gait, and 
coquettish air, as though she had been a perfect Semiramis. 

The captain had now saddled his newly acquired steed, and 



M 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 197 

his foot was in the stirrup, when the affectionate patriarch 
again stepped forward, and presented to him a young Pierced- 
nose, who had a peculiarly sulky look. t; This," said the ven- 
erable chief, "is my son; he is very good; a great horseman- 
he always took care of this very fine horse— he brought him up 
from a colt, and made him what he is. He is very fond of this 
fine horse— he loves him like a brother — his heart will be very 
heavy when this fine horse leaves the camp." 

What could the captain do, to reward the youthful hope of 
this venerable pair, and comfort him for the loss of his foster- 
brother, the horse? He bethought him of a hatchet, which 
might be spared from his slender stores. No sooner did he 
place the instrument into the hands of the young hopeful, than 
his countenance brightened up, and he went off rejoicing in his 
hatchet to the full as much as did his respectable mother in 
her ear-bobs. 

The captain was now in the saddle, and about to start, when 
the affectionate old patriarch stepped forward for the third 
time, and, while he laid one hand gently on the mane of the 
horse, held up the rifle in the other. "This rifle," said he, 
"shall be my great medicine. I will hug it to my heart— I 
will always love it, for the sake of my good friend, the bald- 
headed chief. But a rifle, by itself, is dumb — I cannot make it 
speak. If I had a little powder and ball, I would take it out 
with me, and would now and then shoot a deer ; and when I 
brought the meat home to my hungry family, I would say — 
This was killed by the rifle of my friend, the bald-headed chief, 
to whom I gave that very fine horse." 

There was no resisting this appeal; the captain forthwith 
furnished the coveted supply of powder and ball ; but at the 
same time put spurs to his very fine gift-horse, and the first 
trial of his speed was to get out of all further manifestation of 
friendship on the part of the affectionate old patriarch and his 
insinuating family. 



198 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

NEZ PERCE CAMP— A CHIEF WITH A HARD NAME— THE BIG 
HEARTS OF THE EAST— HOSPITABLE TREATMBNT — THE INDIAN 
GUIDES— MYSTERIOUS COUNCILS— THE LOQUACIOUS CHIEF— IN- 
DIAN TOMB— GRAND INDIAN RECEPTION — AN INDIAN FEAST- 
TO WN-CRIERS —HONESTY OF THE NEZ PERCES— THE CAPTAIN'S 
ATTEMPT AT HEALING. 

Following the course of the Immahah, Captain Bonneville 
and his three companions soon reached the vicinity of Snake 
River. Their route now lay over a succession of steep and iso- 
lated hills, with profound valleys. On the second day after 
taking leave of the affectionate old patriarch, as they were 
descending into one of those deep and abrupt intervals, they 
descried a smoke, and shortly afterward came in sight of a 
small encampment of Nez Perces. 

The Indians, when they ascertained that it was a party of 
white men approaching, greeted them with a salute of firearms, 
and invited them to encamp. This band was likewise under 
the sway of a venerable chief named Yo-mus-ro-y-e-cut ; a 
name which we shall be careful not to inflict of tener than is 
necessary upon the reader. This ancient and hard-named 
chieftain welcomed Captain Bonneville to his camp with the 
same hospitality and loving kindness that he had experienced 
from his predecessor. He told the captain he had often heard 
of the Americans and their generous deeds, and that his buf- 
falo brethren (the Upper Nez Perces) had always spoken of 
them as the Big-hearted whites of the East, the very good 
friends of the Nez Perces. 

Captain Bonneville felt somewhat uneasy under the responsi- 
bility of this magnanimous but costly appellation ; and began 
to fear he might be involved in a second interchange of 
pledges of friendship. He hastened, therefore, to let the old 
chief know his poverty-stricken state, and how little there was 
to be expected from him. 

He informed him that he and his comrades had long resided 
among the Upper Nez Perces, and loved them so much that 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 19£ 

they had thrown their arms around them, and now held them 
close to their hearts. That he had received such good accounts 
from the Upper Nez Perces, of their cousins, the Lower Nez 
Perces, that he had become desirous of knowing them as 
friends and brothers. That he and his companions had accord- 
ingly loaded a mule with presents and set off for the country 
of the Lower Nez Perces; but, unfortunately, had been en- 
trapped for many days among the snowy mountains; and 
that the mule with all the presents had fallen into Snake 
River, and been swept away by the rapid current. That in- 
stead, therefore, of arriving among their friends, the Nez 
Perces, with light hearts and full hands, they came naked, 
hungry, and broken down ; and instead of making them pres- 
ents, must depend upon them even for food. "But," con- 
cluded he, " we are going to the white men's fort on 'the Wal- 
lah Wallah, and will soon return ; and then we will meet our 
Nez Perce friends like the true Big Hearts of the East." 

Whether the hint thrown out in the latter pait of the speech 
had any effect, or whether the old chief acted from the hospita- 
ble feelings which, according to the captain, are really inhe- 
rent in the Nez Perce tribe, he certainly showed no disposition 
to relax his friendship on learning the destitute circumstances 
of his guests. On the contrary, he urged the captain to re- 
main with them until the following day, when he would accom- 
pany him on his journey, and make him acquainted with all 
his people. In the meantime he would have a colt killed, and 
cut up for travelling provisions. This, he carefully explained, 
w^s intended not as an article of traffic, but as a gift ; for he 
saw that his guests were hungry and in need of food. 

Captain Bonneville gladly assented to this hospitable ar- 
rangement. The carcass of the colt was forthcoming in due 
season, but the captain insisted that one half of it should be set- 
apart for the use of the chieftain's family. 

At an early hour of the following morning the little party 
resumed their journey, accompanied by the old chief and an 
Indian guide. Their route was over a rugged and broken 
country; where the hills were slippery with ice and snow. 
Their horses, too, were so weak and jaded that they could 
scarcely climb the steep ascents or maintain their foothold on 
the frozen declivities. Throughout the whole of the journey ,> 
the old chief and the guide were unremitting in their good of- 
fices, and continually on the alert to select the best roads, and 
assist them through all difficulties. Indeed the captain and 



200 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

\ds comrades had to be dependent on their Indian friends for 
almost everything, for they had lost their tobacco and pipes, 
those great comforts of the trapper, and had but a few charges 
of powder left, which it was necessary to husband for the pur- 
pose of lighting their fires. 

In the course of the day the old chief had several private 
consultations with the guide, and showed evident signs of 
being occupied with some mysterious matter of mighty im- 
port. What it was, Captain Bonneville could not fathom, nor 
did he make much effort to do so. From some casual sen- 
tences that he overheard, he perceived that it was something 
from which the old man promised himself much satisfaction, 
and to which he attached a little vainglory, but which he 
wished to keep a secret; so he suffered him to spin out his 
petty plans unmolested. 

In the evening when they encamped, the old chief and his 
privy counsellor, the guide, had another mysterious colloquy, 
after which the guide mounted his horse and departed on 
some secret mission, while the chief resumed his seat at the 
fire, and sat humming to himself in a pleasing but mystic rev- 
erie. 

The next morning the travellers descended into the valley of 
the Way- lee-way, a considerable tributary of Snake Eiver. 
Here they met the guide returning from his secret errand. 
Another private conference was held between him and the old 
managing chief, who now seemed more inflated than ever 
with mystery and self-importance. Numerous fresh trails, 
and various other signs persuaded Captain Bonneville that 
there must be a considerable village of Nez Perces in the 
neighborhood; but as his worthy companion, the old chief, 
said nothing on the subject, and as it appeared to be in some 
way connected with his secret operations, he asked no ques- 
tions, but patiently awaited the development of his mystery. 

As they journeyed on they came to where two or three Indi- j 
ans were bathing in a small stream. The good old chief imme ! 
diately came to a halt, and had a long conversation with them, 
in the course of which he repeated to them the whole history 
which Captain Bonneville had related to him. In fact, ne 
seems to have been a very sociable, communicative old man; 
by no means afflicted with that taciturnity generally charged 
upon the Indians. On the contrary, he was fond of long talks 
and long smokings, and evidently was proud of his new friend, 
the bald-headed chief, and took a pleasure in sounding his" 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 201 

praises, and setting forth the power and glory of the Big 
Hearts of the East. 

Having disburdened himself of everything he had to relate 
to his bathing friends, he left them to their aquatic disports, 
and proceeded onward with the captain and his companions. 
As they approached the Way-lee-way, however, the communi- 
cative old chief met with another and a very different occasion 
to exert his colloquial powers. On the banks of the river stood 
an isolated mound covered with grass. He pointed to it with 
some emotion. " The big heart and the strong arm," said he, 
" He buried beneath that sod." 

It was, in fact, the grave of one of. his friends; a chosen 
warrior of the tribe ; who had been slain on this spot when in 
pursuit of a war party of Shoshokoes, who had stolen the 
horses of the village. The enemy bore off his scalp as a 
trophy ; but his friends found his body in this lonely place, and 
committed it to the earth with ceremonials characteristic of 
their pious and reverential feelings. They gathered round the 
grave and mourned; the warriors were silent in their grief; 
but the women and children bewailed their loss with loud 
lamentations. u For three days," said the old man, "we per- 
formed the solemn dances for the dead, and prayed the Great 
Spirit that our brother might be -,appy in the land of brave 
warriors and hunters. Then we killed at his grave fifteen of 
our best and strongest horses, to serve him when he should 
arrive at the happy hunting grounds; and having done all 
this, we returned sorrowfully to our homes." 

While the chief was still talking an Indian scout came gal- 
loping up and, presenting him with a powder horn, wheeled 
round, and was speedily out of sight. The eyes of the old 
chief now brightened ; and all his self-importance returned. 
His petty mystery was about to explode. Turning to Captain 
Bonneville, he pointed to a hill hard by, and informed him 
that behind it was a village governed by a little chief, whom 
he had notified of the approach of the bald-headed chief, and 
a party of the Big Hearts of the East, and that he was pre- 
pared to receive them in becoming style. As, among other 
ceremonials, he intended to salute them with a discharge of 
firearms, he had sent the horn of gunpowder that they might 
return the salute in a manner correspondent to his dignity. 

They now proceeded on until they doubled the point of the 
hill, when the whole population of the village broke upon their 
view, drawn out in the most imposing style, and arrayed in all 



202 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

their finery. The effect of the whole was wild and fantastic, 
yet singularly striking. In the front rank were the chiefs and 
principal warriors, glaringly painted and decorated; behind 
them were arranged the rest of the people, men, women, and 
children. 

Captain Bonneville and his party advanced slowly, exchang- 
ing salutes of firearms. When arrived within a respectful 
distance they dismounted. The chiefs then came forward suc- 
cessively, according to their respective characters and conse- 
quence to offer the hand of good-fellowship; each filing off 
when he had shaken hands, "bo make way for his successor. 
Those in the next rank followed in the same order, and so on, 
until all had given the pledge of friendship. During all this 
time, the chief, according to custom, took his stand beside the 
guests. If any of his people advanced whom he judged un- 
worthy of the friendship or confidence of the white men, he 
motioned them off by a wave of the hand, and they would sub- 
missively walk away. When Captain Bonneville turned upon 
him an inquiring look, he would observe, ' ' he was a bad man,' 7 
or something quite as concise, and there was an end of the 
matter. 

Mats, poles, and other material*, ^ere now brought, and a 
comfortable lodge was soon erected for the strangers, where 
they were kept constantly supplied with wood and water, and 
other necessaries: and all their effects were placed in safe- 
keeping. Their horses, too, were unsaddled, and turned loose 
to graze and a guard set to keep watch upon them. 

All this being adjusted they were conducted to the main 
building or council house of the village, where an ample repast, 
or rather banquet, was spread, which seemed to realize all the 
gastronomical dreams that had tantalized them during their 
long starvation ; for here they beheld not merely fish and roots 
in abundance, but the flesh of deer and elk, and the choicest 
pieces of buffalo meat. It is needless to say how vigorously 
they acquitted themselves on this occasion, and how unneces- 
sary it was for their hosts to practise the usual cramming prin- 
ciple of Indian hospitality. 

When the repast was over a long talk ensued. The chief 
showed the same curiosity evinced by his tribe generally, to 
obtain information concerning the United States, of which 
they knew little but what they derived through their cousins, 
the Upper Nez Perces; as their traffic is almost exclusively 
with the British traders of the Hudson's Bay Company. Cap- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 203 

fain Bonneville did his best to set forth the merits of his 
nation, and the importance of their friendship to the red men, 
in which he was ably seconded by his worthy friend, the old 
chief with'the hard name, who did all that he could to glorify 
the Big Hearts of the East. 

The chief and all present listened with profound attention, 
and evidently with great interest; nor were the important 
facts thus set forth confined to the audience in the lodge ; for 
sentence after sentence was loudly repeated by a crier for the 
benefit of the whole village. 

This custom of promulgating everything by criers is not 
confined to the Nez Perces, but prevails among many other 
tribes. It has its advantage where there are no gazettes to 
publish the news of the day, or to report the proceedings of 
important meetings. And in fact, reports of this kind, viva 
voce, made in the hearing of all parties, and liable to be con- 
tradicted or corrected on the spot, are more likely to convey 
accurate information to the public mind than those circulated 
through the press. The office of crier is generally filled by 
some old man, who is good for little else. A village has gener- 
ally several of these walking newspapers, as they are termed 
by the whites, who go about proclaiming the news of the day, 
giving notice of public councils, expeditions, dances, feasts, 
and other ceremonials, and advertising anything lost. While 
Captain Bonneville remained among the Nez Perces, if a glove, 
handkerchief, or anything of similar value, was lost or mislaid, 
it was carried by the finder to the lodge of the chief, and proc- 
lamation was made by one of their criers, for the owner to 
come and claim his property. 

How difficult it is to get at the true character of these wan- 
dering tribes of the wilderness ! In a recent work, we have 
had to speak of this tribe of Indians from the experience of 
other traders who had casually been among them, and who 
represented them as selfish, inhospitable, exorbitant in their 
dealings and much addicted to thieving.* Captain Bonneville, 
on the contrary, who resided much among them, and had re- 
peated opportunities of ascertaining their real character, in- 
variably speaks of them as kind and hospitable, scrupulously 
honest, and remarkable above all other Indians that he had 
met with for a strong feeling of religion. In fact, so enthusi- 
astic is he in their praise, that he pronounces them, all igno- 

. i , : 1 ml *> 

* Vide Astoria. chaD Ui, 



204 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

rant and barbarous as they are by their condition, one of tb« 
purest-hearted people on the face of the earth. 

Some cures which Captain Bonneville had effected in simple 
cases, among the Upper Nez Perces, had reached the ears of 
their cousins here, and gained for him the reputation of a 
great medicine man. He had not been long in the village, 
therefore, before his lodge began to be the resort of the sick 
and the infirm. The captain felt the value of the reputation 
thus accidentally and cheaply acquired, and endeavored to 
sustain it. As he had arrived at that age when every man is, 
experimentally, something of a physician, he was enabled to 
turn to advantage the little knowledge in the healing art 
which he had casually picked up; and was sufficiently suc- 
cessful in two or three cases, to convince the simple Indians 
that report had not exaggerated his medical talents. The only 
patient that effectually baffled his skill, or rather discouraged 
any attempt at relief, was an antiquated squaw with a church- 
yard cough, and one leg in the grave ; it being shrunk and ren- 
dered useless by a rheumatic affection. This was a case beyond 
his mark ; however, he comforted the old woman with a promise 
that he would endeavor to procure something to relieve her, at 
the fort on the Wallah- Wallah, and would bring it on his re- 
turn ; with which assurance her husband was so well satisfied 
that he presented the captain with a colt, to be killed as pro- 
visions for the journey ; a medical fee which was thankfully 
accepted. 

While among these Indians Captain Bonneville unexpectedly 
found an owner for the horse which he had purchased from a 
Eoot Digger at the Big Wyer. The Indian satisfactorily proved 
that the horse had been stolen from him some time previous, 
by some unknown thief. " However," said the considerate 
savage, "you got him in fair trade — you are more in want of 
horses than I am ; keep him ; he is yours — he is a good horse ; 
use him well." 

Thus, in the continual experience of acts of kindness and 
generosity, which his destitute condition did not allow him to 
reciprocate, Captain Bonneville passed some short time among 
these good people, more and more impressed with the general 
excellence of their character. , 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 205 



CHAPTEE XXXIH. 

r?EWERY OF THE WAY-LEE- WAY— A SUBSTITUTE FOR TOBACCO— 
SUBLIM® SCENERY OF SNAKE RIVER — THE GARRULOUS OLD 
CHIEF AND HIS COUSIN— A NEZ PERCE MEETING — A STOLEN 
SKIN— THE SCAPEGOAT DOG— MYSTERIOUS CONFERENCES— THE 
LITTLE CHIEF — HIS HOSPITALITY— THE CAPTAIN'S ACCOUNT OF 
THE UNITED STATES— HIS HEALING SKILL. • 

In resuming his journey, Captain Bonneville was conducted 
by the same Nez Perce guide, whose knowledge o; c the country 
was important in choosing the routes and resting-places. He 
also continued to be accompanied by the worthy old chief with 
the hard name, who seemed bent upon doing the honors of the 
country, and introducing him to every branch of his tribe. 
The Way-lee- way, down the banks of which Captain Bonne- 
ville and his companions were now travelling, is a considera- 
ble stream winding through a succession of bold and beautiful 
scenes. Sometimes the landscape towered into bold and moun- 
tainous heights that partook of sublimity; at other times it 
stretched along the water side in fresh smiling meadows and 
grateful undulating valleys. 

Frequently in their route they encountered small parties of 
the Nez Perces, with whom they invariably stopped to shake 
hands ; and who, generally, evinced great curiosity concerning 
them and their adventures ; a curiosity which never failed to 
be thoroughly satisfied by the replies of the worthy Yo-mus- 
ro-y-e-cut, who kindly took upon himself to be spokesman of 
the party. 

The incessant smoking of pipes incident to the long talks of 
this excellent, but somewhat garrulous old chief, at length ex- 
hausted all his stock of tobacco, so that he had no longer a 
whiff with which to regale his white companions. In this 
emergency he cut up the stem of his pipe into fine shavings, 
which he mixed with certain herbs, and thus manufactured a 
temporary succedaneum to enable him to accompany his long 
colloquies and harangues with the customary fragrant cloud. 

If the scenery of the Way -lee-way had charmed the travel- 
lers with its mingled amenity and grandeur, that which broke 



206 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

upon them on once more reaching Snake Eiver, filled them 
with admiration and astonishment. At times, the river was 
overhung by dark and stupendous rocks, rising like gigantic 
walls and battlements; these would be rent by wide and yawn- 
ing chasms, that seemed to speak of past convulsions of nature. 
Sometimes the river was of a glassy smoothness and placidity, 
at other times it roared along in impetuous rapids and foaming 
cascades. Here, the rocks were piled in the most fantastic 
crags and precipices; and in another place they were suc- 
ceeded by delightful valleys carpeted with greensward. The 
whole of this wild and varied scenery was dominated by im- 
mense mountains -rearing their distant peaks into the clouds. 
"The grandeur and originality of the views presented on 
every side," says Captain Bonneville, " beggar both the pencil 
and the pen. Nothing we had ever gazed upon in any other 
region could for a moment compare in wild majesty and im- 
pressive sternness with the series of scenes which here at 
every turn astonished our senses and filled us with awe and 
delight." 

Indeed, from all that we can gather from the journal before 
us, and the accounts of other travellers, who passed through 
these regions in the memorable enterprise of Astoria, we are 
inclined to think that Snake Eiver must be one of the most re- 
markable for varied and striking scenery of all the rivers of 
this continent. From its head-waters in the Eocky Moun- 
tains, to its junction with the Columbia, its windings are up- 
ward of six hundred miles through every variety of landscape. 
Eising in a volcanic region, amid extinguished craters, and 
mountains awful with the traces of ancient fires, it makes its 
way through great plains of lava and sandy deserts, penetrates 
vast sierras or mountainous chains, broken into romantic and 
often frightful precipices, and crowned with eternal snows; 
and at other times careers through green and smiling mead- 
ows and wide landscapes of Italian grace and beauty. Wild- 
ness and sublimity, however, appear to be its prevailing char 
acteristics. 

Captain Bonneville and his companions had pursued their 
journey a considerable distance down the course of Snake 
Eiver, when the old chief halted on the bank, and dismounting, 
recommended that they should turn their horses loose to graze, 
while he summoned a cousin of his from a group of lodges on 
the opposite side of the stream. His summons was quickly 
answered. An Indian, of an active, elastic form, leaped into a 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 207 

light canoe of cotton-wood, and vigorously plying the paddle, 
soon shot across the river. Bounding on shore, he advanced 
with a buoyant air and frank demeanor, and gave his right 
hand to each of the party in turn. The old chief, whose hard 
name we forbear to repeat, now presented Captain Bonneville, 
in form, to his cousin, whose name, we regret to say, was no 
less hard, being nothing less than Hay-she-in-cow-cow. The 
latter evinced the usual curiosity to know all about the stran- 
gers, whence they came, whither they were going, the object 
of their journey, and the adventures they had experienced. 
All these, of course, were amply and eloquently set forth by 
the communicative old chief. To all his grandiloquent account 
of the bald-headed chief and his countrymen, the Big Hearts 
of the East, his cousin listened with great attention, and replied 
in the customary style of Indian welcome. He then desired 
the party to await his return, and, springing into his canoe, 
darted across the river. In a little while he returned, bringing 
a most welcome supply of tobacco, and a small stock of pro- 
visions for the road, declaring his intention of accompanying 
the party. Having no horse, he mounted behind one of the 
men, observing that he should procure a steed for himself on 
the following day. 

They all now jogged on very sociably and cheerily together. 
Not many miles beyond, they met others of the tribe, among 
whom was one whom Captain Bonneville and his comrades 
had known during their residence among the Upper Nez 
Perces, and who welcomed them with open arms. In this 
neighborhood was the home of their guide, who took leave of 
them with a profusion of good wishes for their safety and hap- 
piness. That night they put up in the hut of a Nez Perce, 
where they were visited by several warriors from the other 
side of the river, friends of the old chief and his cousin, who 
came to have a talk and a smoke with the white men. The 
heart of the good old chief was overflowing with good-will at 
thus being surrounded by his new and old friends, and he 
talked with more spirit and vivacity than ever. The evening 
passed away in perfect harmony and good-humor, and it was 
not until a late hour that the visitors took their leave and re- 
crossed the river. 

After this constant picture of worth and virtue on the part 
of the Nez Perc& tribe, we grieve to have to record a circum- 
stance calculated to throw a temporary shade upon the name. 
In the course of the social and harmonious evening just men 



208 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

tioned, one of the captain's men, who happened to be some 
thing of a virtuoso in his way, and fond of collecting curiosi- 
ties, produced a small skin, a great rarity in the eyes of men 
conversant in peltries. It attracted much attention among the 
visitors from beyond the river, who passed it from one to the 
other, examined it with looHs of lively admiration, and pro^ 
nounced it a great medicine. 

In the morning, when the captain and his party were about 
to set off, the precious skin was missing. Search was made 
for it in the hut, but- it was nowhere to be found ; and it was 
strongly suspected that it had been purloined by some of the 
connoisseurs from the other side of the river. 

The old chief and his cousin were indignant at the supposed 
delinquency of their friends across the water, and called out 
for them to come over and answer for their shameful conduct. 
The others answered to the call with all the promptitude of 
perfect innocence, and spurned at the idea of their being capa- 
ble of such outrage upon any of the Big-hearted nation. All 
were at a loss on whom to fix the crime of abstracting the in- 
valuable skin, when by chance the eyes of the worthies from 
beyond the water fell upon an unhappy cur, belonging to the 
owner of the hut. He was a gallows-looking dog, but not more 
so than most Indian dogs who, take them in the mass, are little 
better than a generation of vipers. Be that as it may, he was 
instantly accused of having devoured the skin in question. A 
dog accused is generally a dog condemned; and a dog con- 
demned is generally a dog executed. • So was it in the present 
instance. The unfortunate cur was arraigned; his thievish 
looks substantiated his guilt, and he was condemned by his 
judges from across the river to be hanged. In vain the In- 
dians of the hut, with whom he was a great favorite, interceded 
in his behalf. In vain Captain Bonneville and his comrades 
petitioned that his life might be spared. His judges were inex- 
orable. He was doubly guilty ; first, in having robbed their 
good friends, the Big Hearts of the East; secondly, in having 
brought a doubt on the honor of the Nez Perce tribe. He was, 
accordingly, swung aloft, and pelted with stones to make 
his death more certain. The sentence of the judges being 
thoroughly executed, a post mortem examination of the body 
of the dog was held to establish his delinquency beyond all 
doubt, and to leave the Nez Perces without a shadow of suspi- 
cion. Great interest, of course, was manifested by all present, 
during this operation. The body of the dog was opened, the 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 209 

intestines rigorously scrutinized, but, to the horror of all con- 
cerned, not a particle of the skin was to be found — the dog had 
been unjustly executed. 

A great clamor now ensued, but the most clamorous was the 
party from across the river, whose jealousy of their good name 
now prompted them to the most vociferous vindications of 
their innocence. It was with the utmost difficulty that the 
captain and his comrades could calm their lively sensibilities 5 
by accounting for the disappearance of the skin in a dozen 
different ways, until all idea of its having been stolen was 
entirely out of the question. 

The meeting now broke up. The warriors returned across 
the river, the captain and his comrades proceeded on their 
journey; but the spirits of the communicative old chief, Yo- 
mus-ro-y-e-cut, were for a time completely dampened, and he 
evinced great mortification at what had just occurred. He 
rode on in silence, except that now and then he would give 
way to a burst of indignation, and exclaim, with a shake of the 
head and a toss of the hand toward the opposite shore — "bad 
men, very bad men across the river ;" to each of which brief 
exclamations, his worthy cousm, Hay-she-in-cow-cow, would 
respond by a deep guttural sound of acquiescence, equivalent 
to an amen. 

After some time the countenance of the old chief again 
cleared up, and he fell into repeated conferences, in an under- 
tone, with his cousin, which ended in the departure of the lat- 
ter, who, applying the lash to his horse, dashed forward and 
was soon out of sight. In fact, they were drawing near to the 
village of another chief, likewise distinguished by an appella- 
tion of some longitude, O-push-y-e-cut, but commonly known 
as the great chief. The cousin had been sent ahead to give 
notice of their approach ; a herald appeared as before, bearing 
a powder-horn, to enable them to respond to the intended sa- 
lute. A scene ensued, on their approach to the village, similar 
to that which had occurred at the village of the little chief. 
The whole population appeared in the field, drawn up in lines, 
arrayed with the customary regard to rank aiid dignity. Then 
came on the firing of salutes, and the shaking of hands, in 
which last ceremonial every individual, man, woman, and 
child, participated ; for the Indians have an idea that it is as 
indispensable an overture of friendship among the whites as 
smoking of the pipe is among the red men. The travellers 
were next ushered to the banquet, where all the choicest vi- 



210 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

ands that the village could furnish, were served up in rich pro- 
fusion. They were afterward entertained by feats of agility 
and horse-races ; indeed their visit to the village seemed the 
signal for complete festivity. In the meantime, a skin lodge 
had been spread for -their accommodation, their horses and 
baggage were taken care of, and wood and water supplied in 
abundance. At night, therefore, they retired to their quar- 
ters, to enjoy, as they supposed, the repose of which they 
stood in need. No such thing, however, was in store for them. 
A crowd of visitors awaited their appearance, all eager for a 
smoke and a talk. The pipe was immediately lighted, and 
constantly replenished and kept alive until the night was far 
advanced. As usual, the utmost eagerness was evinced by the 
guests to learn everything within the scope of their compre- 
hension respecting the Americans, for whom they professed 
the most fraternal regard. The captain, in his replies, made 
use of familiar illustrations calculated to strike their minds, 
and impress them with such an idea of the might of his nation 
as would induce them to treat with kindness and respect all 
stragglers that might fall in their path. To their inquiries as 
to the numbers of the people of the United States, he assured 
them that they were as countless as the blades of grass in the 
prairies, and that, great as Snake Eiver was, if they were all 
encamped upon its banks they would drink it dry in a single 
day. To these and similar statistics they listened with pro- 
found attention and apparently implicit belief. It was, indeed, 
a striking scene : the captain, with his hunter's dress and bald 
head in the midst, holding forth, and his wild auditors seated 
around like so many statues, the fire lighting up their painted 
faces and muscular figures, all fixed and motionless, excepting 
when the pipe was passed, a question propounded, or a start- 
ling fact in statistics received with a movement of surprise and 
a half -suppressed ejaculation of wonder and delight. 

The fame of the captain as a healer of diseases had accom- 
panied him to this village, and the great chief O-push-y-e-cut 
now entreated him to exert his skill on his daughter, who had 
been for three days racked with pains, for which the Pierced- 
nose doctors could devise no alleviation. The captain found 
her extended on a pallet of mats in excruciating pain. Her 
father manifested the strongest paternal affection for her, and 
assured the captain that if he would but cure her, he would 
?lace the Americans near his heart. The worthy captain 
needed no such inducement. His kind heart was already 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 211 

touched by the sufferings of the poor girl, and his sympathies 
quickened by her appearance ; for she was but about sixteen 
years of age, and uncommonly beautiful in form and feature. 
The only difficulty with the captain was that he knew nothing 
of her malady, and that his medical science was of a most hap- 
hazard kind. After considering and cogitating for some time, 
as a man is apt to do when in a maze of vague ideas,, he made 
a desperate dash at a remedy. By his directions the girl was 
placed in a sort of rude vapor bath, much used by the Nez 
Perces, where she was kept until near fainting. He then gave 
her a dose of gunpowder dissolved in cold water, and ordered 
her to be wrapped in buffalo robes and put to sleep under a 
load of furs and blankets. The remedy succeeded; the next 
morning she was free from pain, though extremely languid; 
whereupon the captain prescribed for her a bowl of bolt's head 
broth, and that she should be kept for a time on simple diet. 

The great chief was unbounded in his expressions of grati- 
tude for the recovery of his daughter. He would fain have 
detained the captain a long time as his guest, but the time for 
departure had arrived. When the captain's horse was brought 
for him to mount, the chief declared that the steed was not 
worthy of him, and sent for one of his best horses, which he 
presented in its stead; declaring that it made his heart glad to 
see his friend so well mounted. He then appointed a young 
Nez Perce to accompany his guest to the next village, and "to 
carry his talk" concerning them ; and the two parties separated 
with mutual expressions of kindness and feelings of good-will. 

The vapor bath of which we have made mention is in fre- 
quent use among the Nez Perce tribe, chiefly for cleanliness. 
Their sweating-houses, as they call them, are small and close 
lodges, and the vapor is produced by water poured slowly upon 
red-hot stones. 

On passing the limits of O-push-y-e-cut's domains, the travel- 
lers left the elevated table-lands, and all the wild and romantic 
scenery which has just been described. They now traversed a 
gently undulating country, of such fertility that it excited the 
rapturous admiration of two of the captain's followers, a Ken- 
tuckian and a native of Ohio. They declared that it surpassed 
any land that they had ever seen, and often exclaimed what a 
delight it would be just to run a plough through such a rich 
and teeming soil, and see it open its bountiful promise before 
the share. 

Another halt and sojourn tf a night was made at the village 



212 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

ot a chief named He-mim-el-pilp, where similar ceremonies 
were observed and hospitality experienced as at the preced- 
ing villages. They now pursued a west-southwest course 
through a beautiful and fertile region, better wooded than most 
of the tracts through which they had passed. In their pro- 
gress, they met with several bands of Nez Perces, by whom 
they were invariably treated with the utmost kindness. With- 
in seven days after leaving the domain of He-mim-el-pilp, they 
struck the Columbia Eiver at Fort Wallah- Wallah, where they 
arrived on the 4th of March, 1834. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

FORT WALLAH-WALLAH -— ITS COMMANDER — INDIANS IN ITS 
NEIGHBORHOOD — EXERTIONS OF MR. PAMBRUNE FOR THEIR 
IMPROVEMENT — RELIGION — CODE OF LAWS — RANGE OF THE 
LOWER NEZ PERCES— CAMASH, AND OTHER ROOTS — NEZ PERCE 
HORSES — PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE — REFUSAL OF SUP- 
PLIED— DEPARTURE — A LAGGARD AND GLUTTON. 

Fort Wallah- Wallah is a trading-post of the Hudson's 
Bay Company, situated just above the mouth of the river of 
the same name, and on the left bank of the Columbia. It is 
built of drift-wood, and calculated merely for defence against 
any attack of the natives. At the time of Captain Bonneville's 
arrival, the whole garrison mustered but six or eight men: 
and the post was under the superintendence of Mr. Pambrune, 
an agent of the Hudson's Bay Company. 

The great post and fort of the company, forming the em- 
porium of its trade on the Pacific, is Fort Vancouver; situated 
on the right bank of the Columbia, about sixty miles from the 
sea, and just above the mouth of the Wallamut. To this point 
the company removed its establishment from Astoria, in 1821, 
after its coalition with the Northwest Company. 

Captain Bonneville and his comrades experienced a polite 
reception from Mr. Pambrune, the superintendent: for, how- 
ever hostile the members of the British Company may be to 
the enterprises of American traders, they have always mani- 
fested great courtesy and hospitality to the traders themselves. 

Fort Wallah- Wallah is surrounded by the tribe of the same 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. Q] 3 

name, as well as by the Skynses and the Nez Perces ; who 
bring to it the furs and peltries collected in their hunting ex- 
peditions. The Wallah- Wallahs are a degenerate, wornout 
tribe. The Nez Perces are the most numerous and tractable 
of the three tribes just mentioned. Mr. Pambrune informed 
Captain Bonneville that he had been at some pains to intro- 
duce the Christian religion, in the Roman Catholic form ? 
among them, where it had evidently taken root ; but had be- 
come altered and modified to suit their peculiar habits of 
thought and motives of action ; retaining, however, the princi- 
pal points of faith and its entire precepts of morality. The 
same gentleman had given them a code of laws, to which they 
conformed with scrupulous fidelity. Polygamy, which once 
prevailed among them to a great extent, was now rarely in- 
dulged. All the crimes denounced by the Christian faith met 
with severe punishment among them. Even theft, so venial a 
crime among the Indians, had recently been punished with 
hanging, by sentence of a chief. 

There certainly appears to be a peculiar susceptibility of 
moral and religious improvement among this tribe, and they 
would seem to be one of the very, very few that have bene- 
fited in morals and manners by an intercourse with white 
men. The parties which visited them about twenty years 
previously, in the expedition fitted out by Mr. Astor, com- 
plained of their selfishness, their extortion, and their thievish 
propensities. The very reverse of those qualities prevailed 
among them during the prolonged sojourns of Captain Bonne- 
ville. 

The Lower Nez Perces range upon the Way -lee -way, Ini- 
mahah, Yenghies, and other of the streams west of the moun- 
tains. They hunt the beaver, elk, deer, white bear, and 
mountain sheep. Beside the flesh of these animals, they use a 
number of roots for food ; some of which would be well worth 
transplanting and cultivating in the Atlantic States. Among 
these is the camash, a sweet root, about the form and size of 
an onion, and said to be really delicious. The cowish, also, or 
biscuit root, about the size of a walnut, which they reduce to a 
very palatable flour ; together with the jackap aisish, quako, 
and others ; which they cook by steaming them in the ground. 
In August and September, these Indians keep along the rivers, 
where they catch and dry great quantities of salmon ; which, 
while they last, are their principal food. In the winter they 
congregate in villages formed of comfortable huts, or lodges. 



214 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

covered with mats. They are generally clad in deer skins, or 
woollens, and extremely well armed. Above all, th$y are 
celebrated for owning great numbers of horses; which they 
mark, and then suffer to range in droves in their most fertile 
plains. These horses are principally of the pony breed; but 
remarkably stout and long-winded. They are brought in great 
numbers to the establishments of the Hudson's Bay Company, 
and sold for a mere trifle. 

Such is the account given by Captain Bonneville of the Nez 
Perces ; who, if not viewed by him with too partial an eye, are 
certainly among the gentlest and least barbarous people of 
these remote wildernesses. They invariably signified to him 
their earnest wish that an American post might be established 
among them ; and repeatedly declared that they would trade 
with Americans in preference to any other people. 

Captain Bonneville had intended to remain some time in this 
neighborhood, to form an acquaintance with the natives and 
to collect information, and establish connections that might be 
advantageous in the way of trade. The delays, however, 
which he had experienced on his journey, obliged him tc 
shorten his sojourn, and to set off as soon as possible, so as to 
reach the rendezvous at the Portneuf at the appointed time. 
He had seen enough to convince him that an American trade 
might be carried on with advantage in this quarter; and he 
determined soon to return with a stronger party, more com- 
pletely fitted for the purpose. 

As he stood in need of some supplies for his journey, he ap- 
plied to purchase them of Mr. Pambrune ; but soon found the 
difference between being treated as a guest, or as a rival 
trader. The worthy superintendent, who had extended to 
him all the genial rites of hospitality, now suddenly assumed 
a withered up aspect and demeanor, and observed that, how- 
ever he might feel disposed to serve him, personally, he felt 
bound by his duty to the Hudson's Bay Company to do noth- 
ing which should facilitate or encourage the visits of other 
traders among the Indians in that part of the country. He 
endeavored to dissuade Captain Bonneville from returning 
through the Blue Mountains; assuring him it would be ex- 
tremely difficult and dangerous, if not impracticable, at this 
season of the year; and advised him to accompany Mr. 
Payette, a leader of the Hudson's Bay Company, who was 
about to depart with a number of men, by a more circuitous, 
but safe route, to carry supplies to the company's agents resi' 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 215 

dent among the Upper Nez Perees. Captain Bonneville, how- 
ever, piqued at his having refused to furnish him with sup- 
plies, and doubting the sincerity of his advice, determined to 
return by the more direct route through the mountains; 
though varying his course, in some respects, from that by 
which he had come, in consequence of information gathered 
among the neighboring Indians. 

Accordingly, on the 6th of March he and his three com- 
panions, accompanied by their Nez Perce guides, set out on 
their return. In the early part of their course, they touched 
again at several of the Nez Perce villages, where they had ex- 
perienced such kind treatment on their way down. They were 
always welcomed with cordiality ; and everything was done to 
cheer them on their journey. 

On leaving the Way-lee- way village, they were joined by a 
Nez Perce, whose society was welcomed on account of the 
general gratitude and good-will they felt for his tribe. He 
soon proved a heavy clog upon the little party, being doltish 
and taciturn, lazy in the extreme, and a huge feeder. His 
only proof of intellect was in shrewdly avoiding all labor, and 
availing himself of the toil of others. When on the march, he 
always lagged behind the rest, leaving to them the task of 
breaking a way through all difficulties and impediments, and 
leisurely and lazily jogging along the track, which they had 
beaten through the snow. At the evening encampment, when 
others were busy gathering fuel, providing for the horses, and 
cooking the evening repast, this worthy Sancho of the wilder- 
ness would take his seat quietly and cosily by the fire, puffing 
away at his pipe, and eyeing in silence, but with wistful inten- 
sity of gaze, the savory morsels roasting for supper. 

When meal-time arrived, however, then came his season of 
activity. He no longer hung back, and waited for others to 
take the lead, but distinguished himself by a brilliancy of on- 
set and a sustained vigor and duration of attack that com- 
pletely shamed the efforts of his competitors — albeit, experi- 
enced trenchermen of no mean prowess. Never had they 
witnessed such power of mastication and such marvellous 
capacity of stomach as in this native and uncultivated gas- 
tronome. Having, by repeated and prolonged assaults, at 
length completely gorged himself, he would wrap himself up, 
and lie with the torpor of an anaconda, slowly digesting his 
way on to the next repast. 

The gormandizing powers of this worthy were, at first, mat- 



216 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE 

ters of surprise and merriment to the travellers; but they soon 
became too serious for a joke, threatening devastation to the 
fleshpots; and he was regarded askance, at his meals, as a 
regular kill-crop, destined to waste the substance of the party. 
Nothing but a sense of the obligations they were under to his 
nation induced them to bear with such a guest ; but he pro 
ceeded, speedily, to relieve them from the weight of these 
obligations, by eating a receipt in full. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

THE UNINVITED GUEST— FREE AND EASY MANNERS — SALUTARY 
JOKES— A PRODIGAL SON — EXIT OF THE GLUTTON— A SUDDEN 
CHANGE IN FORTUNE — DANGER OF A VISIT TO POOR RELATIONS 
—PLUCKING OF A PROSPEROUS MAN — A VAGABOND TOILET— 
A SUBSTITUTE FOR THE VERY FINE HORSE— HARD TRAVELLING 
— THE UNINVITED GUEST AND THE PATRIARCHAL COLT— A 
BEGGAR ON HORSEBACK— A CATASTROPHE— EXIT OF THE MERRY 
VAGABOND. 

As Captain Bonneville and his men were encamped one 
evening among the hills near Snake Eiver, seated before their 
fire, enjoying a hearty supper, they were suddenly surprised 
by the visit of an uninvited guest. He was a ragged, half- 
naked Indian hunter, armed with bow and arrows, and had 
the carcass of a fine buck thrown across his shoulder. Ad- 
vancing with an alert step, and free and easy air, he threw the 
buck on the ground, and, without waiting for an invitation, 
seated himself at their mess, helped himself without ceremony, 
and chatted to the right and left in the liveliest and most un- 
embarrassed manner. No adroit and veteran dinner hunter of 
a metropolis could have acquitted himself more knowingly. 
The travellers were at first completely taken by surprise, and 
could not but admire the facility with which this ragged cosmop- 
olite made himself at home among them. While they stared 
he went on, making the most of the good cheer upon which he 
had so fortunately alighted; and was soon elbow deep in "pot 
luck" and greased from the tip of his nose to the back of his 
ears. 

As the company recovered from their surprise, they began 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 217 

to feel annoyed at this intrusion. Their uninvited guest, un- 
like the generality of his tribe, was somewhat dirty as well as 
ragged and they had no relish for such a messmate. Heaping 
up, therefore, an abundant portion of the " provant" upon a 
piece of bark which served for a dish, they invited him to con- 
fine himself thereto, instead of foraging in the general mess. 

He complied with the most accommodating spirit imagi- 
nable ; and went on eating and chatting, and laughing and 
smearing himself, until his whole countenance shone with 
grease and good-humor. In the course of his repast, his at- 
tention was caught by the figure of the gastronome, who, as 
usual, was gorging himself in dogged silence. A droll cut of 
the eye showed either that he knew him of old, or perceived at 
once his characteristics. He immediately made him the butt 
of his pleasantries ; and cracked off two or three good hits, 
thLt caused the sluggish dolt to prick up his ears, and delighted 
all the company. From this time, the uninvited guest was 
taken into favor; his jokes began to be relished ; his careless, 
free and easy air, to be considered singularly amusing; and in 
the end, he was pronounced by the travellers one of the mer- 
riest companions and most entertaining vagabonds they had 
met with in the wilderness. 

Supper being over, the redoubtable Shee-wee-she-ouaiter, for 
such was the simple name by which he announced himself, de- 
clared his intention of keeping company with the party for a 
day or two, if they had no objection ; and by way of backing 
his self -invitation, presented the carcass of the buck as an 
earnest of his hunting abilities. By this time he had so com- 
pletely effaced the unfavorable impression made by his first 
appearance, that he was made welcome to the camp, and the 
Nez Perce guide undertook to give him lodging for the night. 
The next morning, at break of day he borrowed a gun, and 
was off among the hills, nor was anything more seen of him 
until a few minutes after the party had encamped for the 
evening, when he again made his appearance, in his usual 
frank, careless manner, and threw down the carcass of another 
noble deer, which he had borne on his back for a considerable 
distance. 

This evening he was the life of the party, and his open com- 
municative disposition, free from all disguise, soon put them 
in possession of his history. He had been a kind of prodigal 
son in his native village ; living a loose, heedless life, and dis- 
regarding the precepts and imperative commands of the chiefs. 



218 ADVENTURES OF CAPTA1JS BONNEVILLE. 

He had, in consequence, been expelled from the village, but, in 
nowise disheartened at this banishment had betaken himself 
to the society of the border Indians, and had led a careless, 
haphazard, vagabond life, perfectly consonant to his humors ; 
heedless of the future, so long as he had wherewithal for the 
present; and fearing no lack of food, so long as he had the im- 
plements of the chase, and a fair hunting ground. 

Finding him very expert as a hunter, and being pleased with 
his eccentricities and his strange and merry humor, Captain 
j Bonneville fitted him out handsomely as the Nimrod of the 
party, who all soon became quite attached to him. One of the 
earliest and most signal services he performed, was to exorcise 
the insatiate kill-crop that hitherto oppressed the party. In 
fact, the doltish Nez Perce, who had seemed so perfectly insen- 
sible to rough treatment of every kind, by which the travellers 
had endeavored to elbow him out of their society, could not 
withstand the good-humored bantering, and occasionally sharp 
wit of She-w^ee-she. He evidently quailed under his jokes, and 
sat blinking like an owl in daylight, when pestered by the 
flouts and peckings of mischievous birds. At length his place 
was found vacant at meal-time ; no one knew when he went 
off, or whither he had gone, but he was seen no more, and the 
vast surplus that remained when the repast was over, showed 
what a mighty gormandizer had departed. 

Relieved from this incubus, the little party now went on 
cheerily. She-wee-shc kept them in fun as well as food. His 
hunting was always successful ; he was ever ready to render 
any assistance in the camp or on the march ; while his jokes, 
his antics, and the very cut of his countenance, so full of 
whim and comicality, kept every one in good-humor. 

In this way they journeyed on until they arrived on the 
banks of the Immahah, and encamped near to the Nez Perce 
lodges. Here She-wee-she took a sudden notion to visit his 
people, and show off the state of worldly prosperity to which 
he had so suddenly attained. He accordingly departed in the 
morning, arrayed in hunter's style, and well appointed with 
everything befitting his vocation. The buoyancy of his gait, 
the elasticity of his step, and the hilarity of his countenance, 
showed that he anticipated, with chuckling satisfaction, the 
surprise he was about to give those who had ejected him from 
their society in rags. But what a change was there in his 
whole appearance when he rejoined the party in the evening! 
He came skulking into camp like a beaten cur, with his tail 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 219 

betweeiF his legs. All his finery was gone ; he was naked as 
when he was born, with the exception of a scanty flap that 
answered the purpose of a fig leaf. His fellow-travellers at 
first did not know him, but supposed it to be some vagrant 
Root Digger sneaking into the camp ; but when they recognized 
in this forlorn object their prime wag, She- wee-she, whom they 
had seen depart in the morning in such high glee and high 
feather, they could not contain their merriment, but hailed him 
with loud and repeated peals of laughter. 

She-wee-she was not of a spirit to be easily cast down ; he 
soon joined in the merriment as heartily as any one, and 
seemed to consider his reverse of fortune an excellent joke. 
Captain Bonneville, however, thought proper to check his 
good-humor, and demanded, with some degree of sternness, 
the cause of his altered condition. He replied in the most 
natural and self-complacent style imaginable, "that he had 
been among his cousins, who were very poor ; they had been 
delighted to see him ; still more delighted with his good for- 
tune ; they had taken him to their arms ; admired his equip- 
ments; one had begged for this; another for that" — in fine, 
what with the poor devil's inherent heedlessness and the real 
generosity of his disposition, his needy cousins had succeeded 
hi stripping him of all his clothes and accoutrements, except- 
ing the fig leaf with which he had returned to camp. 

Seeing his total want of care and forethought, Captain Bonne- 
ville determined to let him suffer a little, in hopes it might 
prove a salutary lesson ; and, at any rate, to make him no more 
presents while in the neighborhood of his needy cousins. He 
was left, therefore, to shift for himself in his naked condition ; 
which, however, did not seem to give him any concern, or to 
abate one jot of his good-humor. In the course of his loung- 
ing about the camp, however, he got possession of a deer-skin ; 
whereupon, cutting a slit in the middle, he thrust his head 
through it, so that the two ends hung down before and 
behind, something like a South American poncho, or the 
tabardof a herald. These ends he tied together, under the 
armpits ; and thus arrayed presented himself once more before 
the captain, with an air of perfect self-satisfaction, as though 
he thought it impossible for any fault to be found with his 
toilet. 

A little further journeying brought the travellers to the petty 
village of Nez Perces, governed by the worthy and affectionate 
old patriarch who had made Captain Bonneville the costly 



220 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

present of a very fine horse. The old man welcomed them 
once more to his village with his usual cordialty, and his re- 
spectable squaw and hopeful son, cherishing grateful recollec- 
tions of the hatchet and ear-bobs, joined in a chorus of friendly 
gratulation. 

As the much- vaunted steed, once the joy and pride of this 
interesting family, was now nearly knocked up by travelling, 
and totally inadequate to the mountain scramble that lay ahead, 
Captain Bonneville restored him to the venerable patriarch, 
with renewed acknowledgments for the invaluable gift. Some- 
what to his surprise, he was immediately supplied with a fine 
two years' old colt in his stead, a substitution which, he after- 
ward learned, according to Indian custom in such cases, he 
might have claimed as a matter of right. We do not find that 
any after claims were made on account of this colt. This dona- 
tion may be regarded, therefore, as a signal punctilio of Indian 
honor ; but it will be found that the animal soon proved an un- 
lucky acquisition to the party. 

While at this village, the Nez Perce guide had held consulta- 
tions with some of the inhabitants as to the mountain tract the 
party were about to traverse. He now began to wear an anx- 
ious aspect, and to indulge in gloomy forebodings. The snow, 
he had been told, lay to a great depth in the passes of the 
mountains, and difficulties would increase as he proceeded. 
He begged Captain Bonneville, therefore, to travel very slowly, 
so as to keep the horses in strength and spirit for the hard 
times they would have to encounter. The captain surrendered 
the regulation of the march entirely to his discretion, and 
pushed on in the advance, amusing himself with hunting, so as 
generally to kill a deer or two in the course of the day, and 
arriving, before the rest of the party, at the spot designated 
by the guide for the evening's encampment. 

In the meantime, the others plodded on at the heels of the 
guide, accompanied by that merry vagabond, She-wee-she. 
The primitive garb worn by this droll left all his nether man 
exposed to the biting blasts of the mountains. Still his wit 
was never frozen, nor his sunshiny temper beclouded ; and his 
innumerable antics and practical jokes, while they quickened 
the circulation of his own blood, kept his companions in high 
good-humor. 

So passed the first day after the departure from the patri- 
arch's. The second day commenced in the same manner; the 
captain in the advance, tho re^t of the party following cfe 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 22i 

slowly. She-wee-she, for the greater part of the time, trudged 
on foot over the snow, keeping himself warm by hard exercise, 
and all kinds of crazy capers. In the height of his foolery, 
the patriarchal colt, which, unbroken to the saddle, was suf- 
fered to follow on at large, happened to come within his reach. 
In a moment he was on his back, snapping his fingers, and 
yelping with delight. The colt, unused to such a burden, and 
half wild by nature, fell to prancing and rearing, and snort- 
ing, and plunging, and kicking; and, at length, set off full 
speed over the most dangerous ground. As the route led gen- 
erally along the steep and craggy sides on the hills, both horse 
and horseman were constantly in danger, and more than once 
had a hairbreadth escape from deadly peril. Nothing, how- 
ever, could daunt this madcap savage. He stuck to the colt 
like a plaster, up ridges, down gullies ; whooping and yelling 
with the wildest glee. Never did beggar on horseback display 
more headlong horsemanship. His companions followed him 
with their eyes, sometimes laughing, sometimes holding in 
their breath at his vagaries, until they saw the colt make a 
sudden plunge or start, and pitch his unlucky rider headlong 
over a precipice. There was a general cry of horror, and all 
hastened to the spot. They found the poor fellow lying among 
the rocks below, sadly bruised and mangled. It was almost a 
miracle that he had escaped with life. Even in this condition 
his merry spirit was not entirely quelled, and he summoned 
up a feeble laugh at the alarm and anxiety of those who came 
to his relief. He was extricated from his rocky bed, and a 
messenger dispatched to inform Captain Bonneville of the 
accident. The latter returned with all speed, and encamped 
the party at the first convenient spot. Here the wounded man 
was stretched upon buffalo skins, and the captain, who offi- 
ciated on all occasions as doctor and surgeon to the party, pro- 
ceeded to examine his wounds. The principal one was a long 
and deep gash in the thigh, which reached to the bone. Call- 
ing for a needle and thread, the captain now prepared to sew 
up the wound, admonishing the patient to submit to the oper- 
ation with becoming fortitude. His gayety was at an end ; he 
could no longer summon up even a forced smile ; and, at the 
first puncture of the needle flinched so piteously that the cap- 
tain was obliged to pause, and to order him a powerful dose of 
alcohol. This somewhat rallied up his spirit and warmed his 
heart ; all the time of the operation, however, he kept his eyes 
riveted on the wound, with his teeth set, and a whimsical 



222 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

wincing of the countenance that occasionally gave his nose 
something of its usual comic curl. 

When the wound was fairly closed, the captain washed it 
with rum, and administered a second dose of the same to the 
patient, who was tucked in for the night, and advised to com- 
pose himself to sleep. He was restless and uneasy, however ; 
repeatedly expressing his fears that his leg would be so much 
swollen the next day as to prevent his proceeding with the 
party; nor could he be quieted until the captain gave a de- 
cided opinion favorable to his wishes. 

Early the next morning, a gleam of his merry humor re- 
turned, on finding that his wounded limb retained its natural 
proportions. On attempting to use it, however, he found him- 
self unable to stand. He made several efforts to coax himself 
into a belief that he might still continue forward; but at 
length shook his head despondingly, and said that " as he had 
but one leg," it was all in vain to attempt a passage of the 
mountain. 

Every one grieved to part with so boon a companion, and 
under such disastrous circumstances. He was once more 
clothed and equipped, each one making him some parting pres- 
ent. He was then helped on a horse, which Captain Bonne- 
ville presented to him; and after many parting expressions 
of good-will on both sides, set off on his return to his old 
haunts ; doubtless to be once more plucked by his affectionate 
but needy cousins. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE DIFFICULT MOUNTAIN— A SMOKE AND CONSULTATION— THE 

CAPTAIN'S SPEECH— AN ICY TURNPIKE— DANGER OF A FALSE 

STEP — ARRIVAL ON SNAKE RIVER — RETURN TO PORTNEUF— 
MEETING OF COMRADES. 

Continuing their journey up the course of the Immahah, 
the travellers found, as they approached the head-waters, the 
snow increased in quantity, so as to lie two feet deep. They 
were again obliged, therefore, to beat down a path for their 
horses, sometimes travelling on the icy surface of the stream. 
At length they reached the place where they intended to scale 
the mountains; and, having broken a pathway to the foot, 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 223 

were agreeably surprised to find that the wind had drifted the 
snow from off the side, so that they attained the summit with 
but little difficulty, Here they encamped, with the intention 
of beating a track through the mountains. A short experi- 
ment, however, obliged them to give up the attempt, the snow 
lying in vast drifts, often higher than the horses' heads. 

Captain Bonneville now took the two Indian guides, and set 
out to reconnoitre the neighborhood. Observing a high peak 
which overtopped the rest, he climbed it, and discovered from 
the summit a pass about nine miles long, but so heavily piled 
with snow that it seemed impracticable. He now lit a pipe, 
and, sitting down with the two guides, proceeded to hold a 
consultation after the Indian mode. For a long while they all 
smoked vigorously and in silence, pondering over the subject 
matter before them. At length a discussion commenced, and 
the opinion in which the two guides concurred was, that the 
horses could not possibly cross the snows. They advised, 
therefore, that the party should proceed on foot, and they 
should take the horses back to the village, where they would 
be well taken care of until Captain Bonneville should send for 
them. They urged this advice with great earnestness ; declar- 
ing that their chief would be extremely angry, and treat them 
severely should any of the horses of his good friends, the 
white men, be lost in crossing under their guidance ; and that, 
therefore, it was good they should not attempt it. 

Captain Bonneville sat smoking his pipe, and listening to 
them with Indian silence and gravity. When they had fin- 
ished, he replied to them in their own style of language. 

" My friends," said he, "I have seen the pass, and have list- 
ened to your words ; you have little hearts. When troubles 
and dangers lie in your way, you turn your backs. That is 
not the way with my nation. When great obstacles present, 
and threaten to keep them back, their hearts swell, and they 
push forward. They love to conquer difficulties. But enough 
for the present. Night is coming on; let us return to our 
camp." 

He moved on, and they followed in silence. On reaching the 
camp, he found the men extremely discouraged. One of their 
number had been surveying the neighborhood, and seriously 
assured them that the snow was at least a hundred feet deep. 
The captain cheered them up, and diffused fresh spirit in them 
by his example. Still he was much perplexed how to proceed. 
About dark there was a slight drizzling rain. An expedient 



224 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

now suggested itself. This was to make two light sleds, place 
the packs on them, and drag them to the other side of the 
mountain, thus forming a road in the wet snow, which, should 
it afterward freeze, would be sufficiently hard to bear the 
horses. This plan was promptly put into execution ; the sleds 
were constructed, the heavy baggage was drawn backward 
and f orward until the road was beaten, when they desisted 
from their fatiguing labor. The night turned out clear and 
cold, and by morning their road was incrusted with ice suffi- 
ciently strong for their purpose. They now set out on their 
icy turnpike, and got on well enough, excepting that now and 
then a horse would slide out of the track, and immediately 
sink up to the neck. Then came on toil and difficulty, and 
they would be obliged to haul up the floundering animal with 
ropes. One, more unlucky than the rest, after repeated falls, 
had to be abandoned in the snow. Notwithstanding these re- 
peated delays, they succeeded, before the sun had acquired 
sufficient power to thaw the snow, in getting all the rest of 
their horses safely to the other side of the mountain. 

Their difficulties and dangers, however, were not yet at an 
end. They had now to descend, and the whole surface of the 
snow was glazed with ice. It was necessary, therefore, to 
wait until the warmth of the sun should melt the glassy crust 
of sleet, and give them a foothold to the yielding snow. They 
had a frightful warning of the danger of any movement while 
the sleet remained. A wild young mare, in her restlessness, 
strayed to the edge of a declivity. One slip was fatal to her ; 
she lost her balance, careered with headlong velocity down 
the slippery side of the mountain for more than two thousand 
feet, and was dashed to pieces at the bottom. When the trav- 
ellers afterward sought the carcass to cut it up for food, they 
found it torn and mangled in the most horrible manner. 

It was quite late in the evening before the party descended 
to the ultimate skirts of the snow. Here they planted large 
logs below them to prevent their sliding down, and encamped 
for the night. The next day they succeeded in bringing down 
their baggage to the encampment ; then packing all up regu- 
larly and loading their horses, they once more set out briskly 
and cheerfully, and in the course of the following day suc- 
ceeded in getting to a grassy region. 

Here their Nez Perce guides declared that all the difficulties 
of the mountains were at an end, and their course was plain 
and simple, and needed no further guidance ; they asked leave, 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 225 

therefore, to return home. This was readily granted, with 
many thanks and presents for their faithful services. They 
took a long farev^ell smoke with their white friends, after 
which they mounted their horses and set off, exchanging 
many farewells and kind wishes. 

On the following day, Captain Bonneville completed his 
journey down the mountain, and encamped on the borders 
of Snake River, where he found the grass in great abundance 
and eight inches in height. In this neighborhood he saw on 
the rocky banks of the river several prismoids of basaltes, ris- 
ing to the height of fifty or sixty feet. 

Nothing particularly worthy of note occurred during several 
days as the party proceeded up along Snake River and across 
its tributary streams. After crossing Gun Greek, they met 
with various signs that white people were in the neighbor- 
hood, and Captain Bonneville made earnest exertions to dis- 
cover whether they were any of his own people, that he might 
join them. He soon ascertained that they had been starved 
out of this tract of country, and had betaken themselves to the 
buffalo region, whither he now shaped his course. In proceed- 
ing along Snake River, he found small hordes of Shoshonies 
lingering upon the minor streams, and living upon trout and 
other fish, which they catch in great numbers at this season in 
fish-traps. The greater part of the tribe, however, had pene- 
trated the mountains to hunt the elk, deer, and ahsahta or 
bighorn. 

On the 12th of May Captain Bonneville reached the Portneuf 
River, in the vicinity of which he had left the winter encamp- 
ment of his company on the preceding Christmas day. He 
had then expected to be back by the beginning of March, but 
circumstances had detained him upward of two months be- 
yond the time, and the winter encampment must long ere this 
have been broken up. Halting on the banks of the Portneuf, 
*he dispatched scouts a few miles above, to visit the old camp- 
ing ground and search for signals of the party, or of their 
whereabouts, should they actually have abandoned the spot 
They returned without being able to ascertain anything, 

Being now destitute of provisions, the travellers found it 
necessary to make a short hunting excursion after buffalo. 
They made caches, therefore, in an island in the river, in 
which they deposited all their baggage, and then set out on 
their expedition. They were so fortunate as to kill a couple 
of fine bulls, and cutting up the carcasses, de^rmined to hus' 



226 AD VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

band this stock of provisions with the most miserly care, lest 
they should again be obliged to venture into the open and 
dangerous hunting grounds. Eeturning to their island on the 
18th of May, they found that the wolves had been at the 
caches, scratched up the contents, and scattered them in every 
direction. They now constructed a more secure one, in which 
they deposited their heaviest articles, and then descended 
Snake River again, and encamped just above the American 
Falls. Here they proceeded to fortify themselves, intending 
to remain here, and give their horses an opportunity to recruit 
their strength with good pasturage, until it should be time to 
set out for the annual rendezvous in Bear River valley. 

On the first of June they descried four men on the other side 
of the river, opposite to the camp, and, having attracted their 
attention by a discharge of rifles, ascertained to their joy that 
they were some of their own people. From these men Captain 
Bonneville learned that the whole party which he had left in 
the preceding month of December were encamped on Blackf oot 
River, a tributary of Snake River, not very far above the Port- 
neuf . Thither he proceeded with all possible dispatch, and in 
a little while had the pleasure of finding himself once more 
surrounded by his people, who greeted his return among them 
in the heartiest manner; for his long-protracted absence had 
convinced them that he and his three companions had been cut 
off by some hostile tribe. 

The party had suffered much during his absence. They had 
been pinched by famine and almost starved, and had been 
forced to repair to the caches at Salmon River. Here they fell 
in with the Blackfeet bands, and considered themselves fortu- 
nate in being able to retreat from the dangerous neighborhood 
without* sustaining any loss. 

Being thus reunited, a general treat from Captain Bonneville 
to his men was a matter of course. Two days, therefore, were 
given up to such feasting and merriment as their means and 
situation afforded. What was wanting in good cheer was made 
up in good- will ; the free trappers in particular distinguished 
themselves on the occasion, and the saturnalia was enjoyed 
with a hearty holiday spirit, that smacked of the game flavor 
of the wilderness. 



AD FEATURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 227 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

DEPARTURE FOR THE RENDEZVOUS — A WAR PARTY OF BLACKFEET 
— A MOCK BUSTLE— SHAM FIRES AT NIGHT — WARLIKE PRECAU 
TIONS— DANGERS OF A NIGHT ATTACK- A PANIC AMONG HORSES 
— CAUTIOUS MARCH— THE BEER SPRINGS— A MOCK CAROUSAL- 
SKIRMISHING WITH BUFFALOES— A BUFFALO BAIT— ARRIVAL AT 
THE RENDEZVOUS— MEETING OF VARIOUS BANDS. 

After the two days of festive indulgence, Captain Bpnneville 
broke up the encampment, and set out with his motley crew of 
hired and free trappers, half-breeds, Indians, and squaws, for 
the main rendezvous in Bear River valley. Directing his 
course up the Blackf oot River, he soon reached the hills among 
which it takes its rise. Here, while on the march, he descried 
from the brow of a hill, a war party of about sixty Blackfeet, 
on the plain immediately below him. His situation was peril- 
ous ; for the greater part of his people were dispersed in various 
directions. Still, to betray hesitation or fear would be to dis- 
cover his actual weakness, and to invite attack. He assumed 
instantly, therefore, a belligerent tone ; ordered the squaws to 
lead the horses to a small grove of ashen trees, and unload and 
tie them ; and caused a great bustle to be made by his scanty 
handful ; the leaders riding hither and thither and vociferating 
with all their might, as if a numerous force were getting under 
way for an attack. 

To keep up the deception as to his force, he ordered, at night, 
a number of extra fires to be made in his camp, and kept up a 
vigilant watch. His men were all directed to keep themselves 
prepared for instant action. In such cases the experienced 
trapper sleeps in his clothes with his rifle beside him, the shot= 
belt and powder-flask on the stock ; so that, in case of alarm, 
he can lay his hand upon the whole of his equipment at once, 
and start up, completely armed. 

Captain Bonneville was also especially careful to secure the 
horses, and set a vigilant guard upon them; for there lies the 
great object and principal danger of a night attack. The grand 
move of the lurking savage is to cause a panic among the 
horses. In such cases one horse frightens another, until all are 



228 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

alarmed, and struggle to break loose. In camps where there 
are great numbers of Indians, with their horses, a night alarm 
of the kind is tremendous. The running of the horses that 
have broken loose; the snorting, stamping, and rearing of 
those which remain fast ; the howling of dogs ; the yelling of 
Indians; the scampering of white men, and red men, with 
their guns ; the overturning of lodges and trampling of fires by 
the horses ; the flashes of the fires, lighting up forms of men 
and steeds dashing through the gloom, altogether make up one 
of the wildest scenes of confusion imaginable. 

In this way, sometimes, all the horses of a camp amounting 
to several hundred will be frightened off in a single night. 

The night passed off without any disturbance; but there was 
no likelihood that a war party of Blackfeet, once on the track 
of a camp where there was a chance for spoils, would fail to 
hover round it. The captain, therefore, continued to maintain 
the most vigilant precautions; throwing out scouts in the 
advance, and on every rising ground. 

In the course of the day he arrived at the plain of white clay, 
already mentioned, surrounded by the mineral springs, called 
Beer Springs, by the trappers.* Here the men all halted to 
have a regale. In a few moments every spring had its jovial 
knot of hard drinkers, with tin cup in hand, indulging in a 
mock carouse; quaffing, pledging, toasting, bandying jokes, 
singing drinking songs and uttering peals of laughter, until it 
seemed as if their imaginations had given potency to the bev- 
erage, and cheated them into a fit of intoxication. Indeed, in 
the excitement of the moment they were loud and extravagant 
in their commendations of "the mountain tap;" elevating it 
above every beverage produced from hops or malt. It was a 
singular and fantastic scene ; suited to a region where every- 
thing is strange and peculiar. These groups of trappers and 
hunters, and Indians, with their wild costumes and wilder 
countenances; their boisterous gay ety and reckless air; quaff- 



* In a manuscript journal of Mr. Nathaniel G. Wyeth, we find the following men- 
tion of this watering-place: 

" There is here a soda spring; or, I may say, fifty of them. These springs throw 
out lime, which deposits and forms little hillocks of a yellowish-colored stone. 
There is, also, here, a warm spring, which throws out water, with a jet; which is 
like bilge-water in taste. There are, also, here, peat beds, which sometimes take 
fire, and leave behind a deep, light ashes; in which animals sink deep. . . . I as- 
cended a mountain, and from it could see that Bear River took a short turn 
round Sheep Rock. There were, in the plain, many hundred mounds of yellowish 
stone, with a crater on the top, formed of the deposits of the impregnated water. " 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 229 

ing and making merry round these sparkling fountains ; while 
beside them lay their weapons, ready to be snatched up for in- 
stant service. Painters are fond of representing banditti at 
their rude and picturesque carousals; but here were groups 
still more rude and picturesque ; and it needed but a sudden 
onset of Blackf eet, and a quick transition from a fantastic revel 
to a furious melee, to have rendered this picture of a trapper's 
life complete. 

The beer f rolic, however, passed off without any untoward 
circumstance; and, unlike most drinking bouts, left neither 
headache nor heartache behind. Captain Bonneville now 
directed his course up along Bear River ; amusing himself oc- 
casionally with hunting the buffalo with which the country 
was covered. Sometimes when he saw a huge bull taking his 
repose in a prairie, he would steal along a ravine, until close 
upon him; then rouse him from his meditations with a pebble, 
and take a shot at him as he started up. Such is the quick- 
ness with which this animal springs upon his legs, that it is 
not easy to discover the muscular process by which it is 
effected. The horse rises first upon his forelegs, and the 
domestic cow upon her hinder limbs, but the buffalo bounds 
at once from a couchant to an erect position with a celerity 
that baffles the eye. Though from his bulk and rolling gait 
he does not appear to run with much swiftness ; yet it takes a 
stanch horse to overtake him, when at full speed on level 
ground ; and a buffalo cow is still fleeter in her motion. 

Among the Indians and half-breeds of the party were several 
admirable horsemen and bold hunters, who amused them- 
selves with a grotesque kind of buffalo bait. Whenever they 
found a huge bull in the plains, they prepared for their teas- 
ing and barbarous sport. Surrounding him on horseback, 
they would discharge their arrows at him in quick succession, 
goading him to make an attack; which, with a dexterous 
movement of the horse, they would easily avoid. In this way 
they hovered round him, feathering him with arrows, as he 
reared and plunged about, until he was bristled all over like a 
porcupine. When they perceived in him signs of exhaustion, 
and he could no longer be provoked to make battle, they would 
dismount from their horses, approach him in the rear, and 
seizing him by the tail, jerk him from side to side, and drag 
him backward; until the frantic animal, gathering fresh 
strength from fury, would break from them, and rush, with 
flashing eyes and a hoarse bellowing, upon any enemy m 



230 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

sight; but in a little while, his transient excitement at an end, 
would pitch headlong on the ground and expire. The arrows 
were then plucked forth, the tongue cut out and preserved as 
a dainty, and the carcass left a banquet for the wolves. 

Pursuing his course up Bear River, Captain Bonneville ar- 
rived, on the 13th of June, at the Little Snake Lake ; where he 
encamped for four or five days, that he might examine its 
shores and outlets. The latter he found extremely muddy,' 
and so surrounded by swamps and quagmires that he was 
obliged to construct canoes of rushes with which to explore 
them. The mouths of all the streams which fall into this lake 
from the west are marshy and inconsiderable ; but on the east 
side there is a beautiful beach, broken occasionally by high 
and isolated bluffs, which advance upon the lake, and heighten 
the character of the scenery. The water is very shallow, but 
abounds with trout, and other small fish. 

Having finished his survey of the lake, Captain Bonneville 
proceeded on his journey, until on the banks of the Bear River, 
some distance higher up, he came upon the party which he 
had detached a year before, to circumambulate the Great Salt 
Lake, and ascertain its extent, and the nature of its shores. 
They had been encamped here about twenty days ; and were 
greatly rejoiced at meeting once more with their comrades 
from whom they had so long been separated. The first in- 
quiry of Captain Bonneville was about the result of their 
journey, and the information they had procured as to the 
Great Salt Lake, the object of his intense curiosity and am- 
bition. The substance of their report will be found in the fol- 
lowing chapter. 



ABVENTURE8 OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 231 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

PLAN OF THE SALT LAKE EXPEDITION— GREAT SANDY DESERTS- 
SUFFERINGS FROM THIRST— OGDEN'S RIVER— TRAILS AND SMOKE 
OF LURKING SAVAGES— THEFTS AT NIGHT— A TRAPPER'S RE- 
VENGE—ALARMS OF A GUILTY CONSCIENCE— A MURDEROUS 
VICTORY— C A LTFORNIAN MOUNTAINS— PLAINS ALONG THE PACI- 
FIC—ARRIVAL AT MONTEREY— ACCOUNT OF THE PLACE AND 
NEIGHBORHOOD— LOWER CALIFORNIA — ITS EXTENT — THE PEN- 
INSULA — SOIL — CLIMATE — PRODUCTION — ITS SETTLEMENT BY 
THE JESUITS— THEIR SWAY OVER THE INDIANS— THEIR EX- 
PULSION—RUINS OF A MISSIONARY ESTABLISHMENT — SUBLIME 
SCENERY— UPPER CALIFORNIA— MISSIONS— THEIR POWER AND 
POLICY— RESOURCES OF THE COUNTRY— DESIGNS OF FOREIGN 
NATIONS. 

It was on the 24th of July, in the preceding year (1833), that 
the brigade of forty men set out from Green River valley, to 
explore the Great Salt Lake. They were to make the complete 
circuit of it, trapping on all the streams which should fall in 
their way, and to keep journals and make charts, calculated 
to impart a knowledge of the lake and the surrounding coun- 
try. All the resources of Captain Bonneville had been tasked 
to fit out this favorite expedition. The country lying to the 
southwest of the mountains, and ranging down to California, 
was as yet almost unknown ; being out of the buffalo range, it 
was untra versed by the trapper, who preferred those parts of 
the wilderness where the roaming herds of that species of ani- 
mal gave him comparatively an abundant and luxurious life. 
Still it was said that the deer, the elk, and the bighorn were to 
be found there, so that with a little diligence and economy, 
there was no danger of lacking food. As a precaution, how- 
ever, the party halted on Bear Eiver and hunted for a few 
days, until they had laid in a supply of dried buffalo meat and 
venison; they then passed by the head- waters of the Cassie 
Eiver, and soon found themselves launched on an immense 
sandy desert. Southwardly, on their left, they beheld the 
Great Salt Lake spread out like a sea, but they found no 
stream running into it A desert extended around them, and 



232 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLB. 

stretched to the southwest as far as the eye could reach, rival 
ling the deserts of Asia and Africa in sterility. There was 
neither tree, nor herbage, nor spring, nor pool, nor running 
stream— nothing but parched wastes of sand, where horse and 
rider were in danger of perishing. 

Their sufferings, at length, became so great that they aban- 
doned their intended course, and made toward a range of 
snowy mountains brightening in the north, where they hoped 
to find water. After a time, they came upon a small stream 
leading directly toward these mountains. Having quenched 
their burning thirst, and refreshed themselves and their weary 
horses for a time, they kept along this stream, which grad- 
ually increased in size, being fed by numerous brooks. After 
approaching the mountains, it took a sweep toward the south- 
west, and the travellers still kept along it, trapping beaver as 
they went, on the flesh of which they subsisted for the present, 
husbanding their dried meat for future necessities. 

The stream on which they had thus fallen is called by 
some, Mary Eiver, but is more generally known as Ogden's 
River, from Mr. Peter Ogden, an enterprising and intrepid 
leader of the Hudson's Bay Company who first explored it. 
The wild and half desert region through which the travel- 
lers were passing is wandered over by hordes of Shoshokoes, 
or Eoot Diggers, the forlorn branch of the Snake tribe. They 
are a shy people, prone to keep aloof from the stranger. The 
travellers frequently met with their trails and saw the smoke 
of their fires rising in various parts of the vast landscape, 
so that they knew there were great numbers in the neigh- 
borhood, but scarcely ever were any of them to be met with. 

After a time, they began to have vexatious proofs that, if 
the Shoshokoes were quiet by day, they were busy at night. 
The camp was dogged by these eavesdroppers ; scarce a morn- 
ing but various articles were missing, yet nothing could be. 
seen of the marauders. What particularly exasperated the! 
hunters, was to have their traps stolen from the streams. • 
One morning a trapper of a violent and savage character, 
discovering that his traps had been carried off in the night, 
took a horrid oath to kill the first Indian he should meet, 
innocent or guilty. As he was returning with his comrades 
to camp, he beheld two unfortunate Diggers, seated on the 
river bank, fishing. Advancing uponthem, he levelled his rifle, 
shot one upon the spot, and flung his bleeding body into the 
stream. The other Indian fled, and was suffered to escape. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. §33 

Such is the indifference with which acts of violence are re- 
garded in the wilderness, and such the immunity an armed 
ruffian enjoys beyond the barriers of the laws, that the only 
punishment this desperado met with, w~as a rebuke from 
the leader of the party. 

The trappers now left the scene of this infamous tragedy, and 
kept on westward down the course of the river, which wound 
along with a range of mountains on the right hand and a sandy 
but somewhat fertile plain on the left. As they proceeded, 
they beheld columns of smoke rising, as before, in various di- 
rections, which their guilty consciences now converted into 
alarm signals, to arouse the country and collect the scattered 
bands for vengeance. 

After a time the natives began to make their appearance, 
and sometimes in considerable numbers, but always pacific; 
the trappers, however, suspected them, of deep-laid plans to 
draw them into ambuscades ; to crowd into and get possession 
of their camp, and various other crafty and daring conspiracies 
which, it is probable, never entered into the heads of the poor 
savages. In fact, they are a simple, timid, inoffensive race, 
unpractised in warfare, and scarce provided with any weapons, 
excepting for the chase. Their lives are passed in the great 
sand plains and along the adjacent rivers; they subsist some- 
times on fish, at other times on roots and the seeds of a plant 
called the cat's-tail. They are of the same kind of people that 
Captain Bonneville found upon Snake River, and whom he 
found so mild and inoffensive. 

The trappers, however, had persuaded themselves that they 
were making their way through a hostile country, and that 
implacable foes hung round their camp or beset their path, 
watching for an opportunity to surprise them. At length one 
day they came to the banks of a stream emptying into Ogden's 
Eiver, which they were obliged to ford. Here a great number 
of Shoshokoes were posted on the opposite bank. Persuaded 
they were there with hostile intent, they advanced upon them, 
levelled their rifles, and killed twenty -five of them on the spot. 
The rest fled to a short distance, then halted and turned about 
howling and whining like wolves, and uttering the most pite- 
ous wailings. The trappers chased them in every direction; 
the poor wretches made no defence, but fled with terror; 
neither does it appear from the accounts of the boasted victors, 
that a weapon had been wielded or a weapon launched by the 
Indians throughout th& &rfaix. We feel perfectly convinced 



234 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

that the poor savages had no hostile intention, but had merely 
gathered together through motives of curiosity, as others of 
their tribe had done when Captain Bonneville and his compan- 
ions passed along Snake Kiver. 

The trappers continued down Ogden's River, until they as- 
certained that it lost itself in a great swampy lake, to which 
there was no apparent discharge. They then struck directly 
westward, across the great chain of Californian mountains in- 
tervening between these interior plains and the shores of the 
Pacific. 

For three and twenty days they were entangled among these 
mountains, the peaks and ridges of which are in many places 
covered with perpetual snow. Their passes and denies present 
the wildest scenery, partaking of the sublime rather than the 
beautiful, and abounding with frightful precipices. The suffer- 
ings of the travellers among these savage mountains were ex- 
treme; for a part of the time they were nearly starved; at 
length they made their way through them, and came down 
upon the plains of New California, a fertile region extending 
along the coast, with magnificent forests, verdant savannas, 
and prairies that looked like stately parks. Here they found 
deer and other game in abundance, and indemnified themselves 
for past famine. They now turned toward the south, and 
passing numerous small bands of natives, posted upon various 
streams, arrived at the Spanish village and post of Monterey. 

This is a small place, containing about two hundred houses, 
situated in latitude 37° north. It has a capacious bay, with in- 
different anchorage. The surrounding country is extremely 
fertile, especially in the valleys ; the soil is richer the further 
you penetrate into the interior, and the climate is described as 
a perpetual spring. Indeed, all California, extending along the 
Pacific Ocean from latitude 19° 30' to 42° north, is represented 
as one of the most fertile and beautiful regions in North 
America. 

Lower California, in length about seven hundred miles, forms 
a great peninsula, which crosses the tropics and terminates in 
the torrid zone. It is separated from the mainland by the Gulf 
of California, sometimes called the Vermilion Sea ; into this gulf 
empties the Colorado of the West, the Seeds-ke-dee, or Green 
River, as it is also sometimes called. The peninsula is traversed 
by stern and barren mountains, and has many sandy plains, 
where the only sign of vegetation is the cylindrical cactus 
growing among the clefts of the rocks. Wherever there is 



ADVENTUBE8 OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 235 

water, however, and vegetable mould, the ardent nature of the 
climate quickens everything into astonishing fertility. There 
are valleys luxuriant with the rich and beautiful productions 
of the tropics. There the sugar-cane and indigo plant attain a 
perfection unequalled in any other part of North America. 
There flourish the olive, the fig, the date, the orange, the cit- 
ron, the pomegranate, and other fruits belonging to the volup- 
tuous climates of the south ; with grapes in abundance, that 
yield a generous wine. In the interior are salt plains ; silver 
mines and scanty veins of gold are said, likewise, to exist; 
and pearls of a beautiful water are to be fished upon the coast. 

The peninsula of California was settled in 1698, by the 
Jesuits, who, certainly, as far as the natives were concerned, 
have generally proved the most beneficent of colonists. In the 
present instance, they gained and maintained a footing in the 
country without the aid of military force, but solely by reli- 
gious influence. They formed a treaty, and entered into the 
most amicable relations with the natives, then numbering from 
twenty-five to thirty thousand souls, and gained a hold upon 
their affections, and a control over their minds, that effected 
a complete change in their condition. They built eleven mis- 
sionary establishments in the various valleys of the peninsula, 
which formed rallying places for the surrounding savages, 
where they gathered together as sheep into the fold, and sur- 
rendered themselves and their consciences into the hands of 
these spiritual pastors. Nothing, we are told, could exceed the 
implicit and affectionate devotion of the Indian converts to the 
Jesuit fathers, and the Catholic faith was disseminated widely 
through the wilderness. 

The growing power and influence of the Jesuits in the New 
World at length excited the jealousy of the Spanish govern- 
ment, and they were banished from the colonies. The gover- 
nor, who arrived in California to expel them, and to take 
charge of the country, expected to find a rich and powerful 
fraternity, with immense treasures hoarded in their missions, 
and an army of Indians ready to defend them. On the con- 
trary, he beheld a few venerable silver-haired priests coming 
humbly forward to meet him, followed by a throng of weeping, 
but submissive natives. The heart of the governor, it is said, 
was so touched by this unexpected sight that he shed tears ; 
but he had to execute his orders. The Jesuits were accom- 
panied to the place of their embarkation by their simple and 
affectionate parishioners^ who took leave of them with tears 



236 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

and sobs. Many of the latter abandoned their hereditary 
abodes, and wandered off to join their southern brethren, so 
that but a remnant remained in the peninsula. The Francis- 
cans immediately succeeded the Jesuits, and subsequently the 
Dominicans ; but the latter managed their affairs ill. But two 
of the missionary establishments are at present occupied by 
priests ; the rest are all in ruins, excepting one, which remains 
a monument of the former power and prosperity of the order. 
This is a noble edifice, once the seat of the chief of the resident 
Jesuits. It is situated in a beautiful valley, about half way 
between the Gulf of California and the broad ocean, the penin- 
sula being here about sixty miles wide. The edifice is of hewn 
stone, one story high, two hundred and ten feet in front, and 
about fifty-five feet deep. The walls are six feet thick, and 
sixteen feet high, with a vaulted roof of stone, about two feet 
and a half in thickness. It is now abandoned and desolate ; 
the beautiful valley is without an inhabitant— not a human 
being resides within thirty miles of the place ! 

In approaching this deserted mission-house from the south, 
the traveller passes over the mountain of San Juan, supposed 
to be the highest peak in the Californias. From this lofty 
eminence, a vast and magnificent prospect unfolds itself; the 
great Gulf of California, with the dark blue sea beyond, stud- 
ded with islands ; and in another direction, the immense lava 
plain of San Gabriel. The splendor of the climate gives an 
Italian effect to the immense prospect. The sky is of a deep 
blue color, and the sunsets are often magnificent beyond de- 
scription. Such is a slight and imperfect sketch of this remark- 
able peninsula. 

Upper California extends from latitude 31° 10' to 42° on the 
Pacific, and inland, to the great chain of snow-capped moun- 
tains which divide it from the sand plains of the interior. 
There are about twenty-one missions in this province, most of 
which were established about fifty years since, and are gener- 
ally under the care of the Franciscans. These exert a protect- 
ing sway over about thirty-five thousand Indian converts, who 
reside on the lands around the mission houses. Each of these 
houses has fifteen miles square of land allotted to it, subdivided 
into small lots, proportioned to the number of Indian con- 
verts attached to the mission. Some are enclosed with high 
walls ; but in general they are open hamlets, composed of rows 
of huts, built of sunburned bricks ; in some instances white- 
washed and roofed with tiles Many of them are far in the 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 237 

interior, beyond the reach of all military protection, and de- 
pendent entirely on the good- will of the natives, which never 
fails them. They have made considerable progress in teaching 
the Indians the useful arts. There are native tanners, shoe- 
makers, weavers, blacksmiths, stonecutters, and other artifi- 
cers attached to each establishment. Others are taught 
husbandry, and the rearing of cattle and horses; while the 
females card and spin wool, weave, and perform the other 
duties allotted to their sex in civilized life. No social intep 
course is allowed between the unmarried of the opposite sexes 
after working hours ; and at night they are locked up in sepa- 
rate apartments, and the keys delivered to the priests. 

The produce of the lands, and all the profits arising from 
sales, are entirely at the disposal of the priests ; whatever is 
not required for the support of the missions goes to augment a 
fund which is under their control. Hides and tallow constitute 
the principal riches of the missions, and, indeed, the main 
commerce of the country. Grain might be produced to an un- 
limited extent at the establishments, were there a sufficient 
market for it. Olives and grapes are also reared at the mis- 
sions. 

Horses and horned cattle abound throughout all this region ; 
the former may be purchased at from three to five dollars, but 
they are of an inferior breed. Mules, which are here of a large 
size and of valuable qualities, cost from seven to ten dollars. 

There are several excellent ports along this coast. San 
Diego, San Barbara, Monterey, the bay of San Francisco, and 
the northern port of Bondago ; all afford anchorage for ships 
of the largest class. The port of San Francisco is too well 
known to require much notice in this place. The entrance 
from the sea is sixty-seven fathoms deep, and within, whole 
navies might ride with perfect safety. Two large rivers, 
which take their rise in mountains two or three hundred miles 
to the east, and run through a country unsurpassed for soil 
and climate, empty themselves into the harbor. The country 
around affords admirable timber for ship-building. In a word, 
this favored port combines advantages which not only fit it for 
a grand naval depot, but almost render it capable of being 
made the dominant military post of these seas. 

Such is a feeble outline of the Californian coast and country, 
the value of which is more and more attracting the attention 
of naval powers. The Russians have always a ship of war 
upon this station, and have already encroached upon the Calx- 



238 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

fornian boundaries, by taking possession of the port of Bon 
dago, and fortifying it with several guns. Eecent surveys 
have likewise been made, both by the Bussians and the Eng- 
lish, and we have little doubt, that, at no very distant day, this 
neglected, and, until recently, almost unknown region, will be 
found to possess sources of wealth sufficient to sustain a power- 
ful and prosperous empire. Its inhabitants themselves are but 
little aware of its real riches ; they have not enterprise suffi- 
cient to acquaint themselves with a vast interior that lies 
almost a terra incognita ; nor have they the skill and industry 
to cultivate properly the fertile tracts along the coast; nor to 
prosecute that foreign commerce which brings all the resources 
of a country into profitable action. 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

GAY LIFE AT MONTEREY MEXICAN HORSEMEN— A BOLD DRAGOON 
—USE OF THE LASSO — VAQUEROS— NOOSING A BEAR —FIGHT 
BETWEEN A BULL AND A BEAR — DEPARTURE FROM MONTEREY 
— INDIAN HORSE-STEALERS — OUTRAGES COMMITTED BY THE 
TRAVELLERS— INDIGNATION OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

The wandering band of trappers were well received at Mon- 
terey, the inhabitants were desirous of retaining them among 
them, and offered extravagant wages to such as were ac- 
quainted with any mechanic art. When they went into the 
country, too, they were kindly treated by the priests at the 
missions; who are always hospitable to strangers, whatever 
may be their rank or religion. They had no lack of provisions ; 
being permitted to kill as many as they pleased of the vast 
herds of cattle that graze the country, on condition, merely-, 
of rendering the hides to the owners. They attended bull- 
fights and horse races ; forgot all the purposes of their expedi- 
tion; squandered away, freely, the property that did not be 
long to them; and, in a word, revelled in a perfect fool's 
paradise. 

What especially delighted them was the equestrian skill of 
the Californians. The vast number and the cheapness of the 
horses in this country makes every one a cavalier. The Mexi' 
cans axxd half-breeds of California spend the greater part of 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 239 

their time in the saddle. They are fearless riders ; and their 
daring feats upon unbroken colts and wild horses astonished 
our trappers, though accustomed to the bold riders of the 
prairie. 

A Mexican horseman has much resemblance, in many points, 
to the equestrians of Old Spain, and especially to the vain- 
glorious caballero of Andalusia. A Mexican dragoon, for 
instance, is represented as arrayed in a round blue jacket, with 
red cuffs and collar; blue velvet breeches, unbuttoned at the 
knees to show his white stockings; bottinas of deer skin; a 
round-crowned Andalusian hat, and his hair cued. On the 
pommel of his saddle he carries balanced a long musket, with 
fox-skin round the lock. He is cased in a cuirass of double- 
fold deer-skin, and carries a bull's hide shield ; he is forked in 
a Moorish saddle, high before and behind ; his feet are thrust 
into wooden box stirrups, of Moorish fashion, and a tremen- 
dous pair of iron spurs, fastened by chains, jingle at his heels. 
Thus equipped, and suitably mounted, he considers himself the 
glory of Calif ornia and the terror of the universe. 

The Calif ornian horsemen seldom ride out without the lasso ; 
that is to say, a long coil of cord, with a slip noose ; with which 
they are expert, almost to a miracle. The lasso, now almost 
entirely confined to Spanish America, is said to be of great 
antiquity ; and to have come originally from the East. It was 
used, we are told, by a pastoral people of Persian descent ; of 
whom eight thousand accompanied the army of Xerxes. By 
the Spanish Americans it is used for a variety of purposes; 
and among others for hauling wood. Without dismounting, 
they cast the noose round a log, and thus drag it to their 
houses. The vaqueros, or Indian cattle drivers, have also 
learned the use of the lasso from the Spaniards, and employ it 
to catch the half -wild cattle by throwing it round their horns. 

The lasso is also of great use in furnishing the public with a 
favorite though barbarous sport ; the combat between a bear 
and a wild bull. For this purpose, three or four horsemen 
sally forth to some wood frequented by bears, and, depositing 
the carcass of a bullock, hide themselves in the vicinity. The 
bears are soon attracted by the bait. As soon as one, fit for 
their purpose, makes his appearance, they run out, and with 
the lasso, dexterously noose him by either leg. After dragging 
him at full speed until he is fatigued, they secure him more 
^le^oually ; and tying him on the carcass of the bullock, draw 
bim in triumph to the scene of action. By this time he is ex- 



240 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

asperated to such frenzy that they are sometimes obliged to 
throw cold water on him, to moderate his fury ; and dangerous 
would it be for horse and rider were he, while in this paroxysm, 
to break his bonds. 

A wild bull, of the fiercest kind, which has been caught and 
exasperated in the same manner, is now produced, and both 
animals are turned loose in the arena of a small amphitheatre. 
The mortal fight begins instantly ; and always, at first, to the 
disadvantage of Bruin; fatigued, as he is, by his previous 
rough riding. Eoused, at length, by the repeated goring of tbe 
bull, he seizes his muzzle with his sharp claws, and clinging to 
this most sensitive part, causes him to bellow with rage and 
agony. In his heat and fury, the bull lolls out his tongue ; this 
is instantly clutched by the bear; with a desperate effort he 
overturns his huge antagonist, and then dispatches him with- 
out difficulty. 

Beside this diversion, the travellers were likewise regaled 
with bull fights, in the genuine style of Old Spain ; the Cali- 
fornians being considered the best bull- fighters in the Mexican 
dominions. 

After a considerable sojourn at Monterey, spent in these 
very edifying, but not very profitable amusements, the leader 
of this vagabond party set out with his comrades on his return 
journey. Instead of retracing their steps through the moun- 
tains, they passed round their southern extremity, and, cross- 
ing a range of low hills, found themselves in the sandy plains 
south of Ogden's River ; in traversing which, they again suf- 
fered grievously for want of water. 

In the course of their journey, they encountered a party of 
Mexicans in pursuit of a gang of natives, who had been steal- 
ing horses. The savages of this part of California are repre- 
sented as extremely poor, and armed only with stone-pointed 
arrows ; it being the wise policy of the Spaniards not to fur- 
nish them with firearms. As they find it difficult, with their 
blunt shafts, to kill the wild game of the mountains, they oc- 
casionally supply themselves with food, by entrapping the 
Spanish horses. Driving them stealthily into fastnesses and 
ravines, they slaughter them without difficulty, and dry their 
flesh for provisions. Some they carry off, to trade with dis- 
tant tribes ; and in this way, the Spanish horses pass from 
hand to hand among the Indians, until they even find their 
way across the Rocky Mountains. 

The Mexicans are continually on the alert, to intercept these 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



24i 



marauders ; but the Indians are apt to outwit them, and force 
them to make long and wild expeditions in pursuit of their 
stolen horses. 

Two of the Mexican party just mentioned joined the band 
of trappers, and proved themselves worthy companions. In 
the course of their journey through the country frequented by 
the poor Root Diggers, there seems to have been an emulation 
between them, which could inflict the greatest outrages upon 
the natives. The trappers still considered them in the light 
of dangerous foes and the Mexicans, very probably, charged 
them with the sin of horse-stealing; we have no other mode of 
accounting for the infamous barbarities of which, according to 
their own story, they were guilty ; hunting the poor Indians 
like wild beasts, and killing them without mercy. The Mexi- 
cans excelled at this savage sport ; chasing their unfortunate 
victims at full speed; noosing them round the neck with 
their lassoes, and then dragging them to death ! 

Such are the scanty details of this most disgraceful expedi- 
tion ; at least, such are all that Captain Bonneville had the 
patience to collect, for he was so deeply grieved by the failure 
of his plans, and so indignant at the atrocities related to him, 
that he turned, with disgust and horror, from the narrators. 
Had he exerted a little of the Lynch law of the wilderness, and 
hanged those dexterous horsemen in their own lassoes, it would 
but have been a well-merited and salutary act of retributive 
justice. The failure of this expedition was a blow to his pride, 
and a still greater blow to his purse. The Great Salt Lake 
still remained unexplored ; at the same time, the means which 
had been furnished so liberally to fit out this favorite expedi- 
tion, had all been squandered at Monterey ; and the peltries, 
also, which had been collected on the way. He would have 
but scanty returns, therefore, to make this year, to his asso< 
ciates in the United States; and there was great danger ol 
their becoming disheartened and abandoning the enterprise. 



242 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE 



CHAPTER XL. 

TRAVELLERS 7 TALES— INDIAN LURKERS— PROGNOSTICS OF BUCK- 
EYE—SIGNS AND PORTENTS— THE MEDICINE WOLF— AN ALARM— 
AN AMBUSH— THE CAPTURED PRO V ANT— TRIUMPH OF BUCKEYE 
— ARRIVAL OF SUPPLIES— GRAND CAROUSE— ARRANGEMENTS FOR 
THE YEAR— MR. WYETH AND HIS NEW-LEVIED BAND. 

The horror and indignation felt by Captain Bonneville at 
the excesses of the Calif ornian adventurers were not partici- 
pated by his men ; on the contrary, the events of that expedi- 
tion were favorite themes in the camp. The heroes of Mon- 
terey bore the palm in all the gossipings among the hunters. 
Their glowing descriptions of Spanish bear-baits and bull- 
fights especially, were listened to with intense delight ; and 
had another expedition to California been proposed, the diffi- 
culty would have been to restrain a general eagerness to 
volunteer. 

The captain had not long been at the rendezvous when he 
perceived, by various signs, that Indians were lurking in the 
neighborhood. It was evident that the Blackf oot band, which 
he had seen when on his march, had dogged his party, and 
were intent on mischief. He endeavored to keep his camp on 
the alert ; but it is as difficult to maintain discipline among 
trappers at a rendezvous as among sailors when in port. 

Buckeye, the Delaware Indian, was scandalized at this 
heedlessness of the hunters when an enemy was at hand, and 
was continually preaching up caution. He was a little prone 
to play the prophet, and to deal in signs and portents, which 
occasionally excited the merriment of his white comrades. 
He was a great dreamer, and believed in charms and talis- 
mans, or medicines, and could foretell the approach of 
strangers by the howling or barking of the small prairie wolf. 
This animal, being driven by the larger wolves from the car- 
casses left on the hunting grounds by the hunters, follows the 
trail of the fresh meat carried to the camp. Here the smell o? 
the roast and broiled, mingling with every breeze, keeps them 
hovering about the neighborhood ; scenting every blast, turn- 
ing up their noses like hungry hounds, and testifying their 



ADVENTURES' OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 243 

pinching hunger *by long whining howls and impatient bark- 
ings. These are interpreted by the superstitious Indians into 
warnings that strangers are at hand ; and one accidental coin- 
cidence, like the chance fulfilment of an almanac prediction, 
is sufficient to cover a thousand failures. This little, whining, 
feast-smelling animal is, therefore, called among Indians the 
" medicine wolf ;" and such was one of Buckeye's infallible 
oracles. 

One morning early, the soothsaying Delaware appeared with 
a gloomy countenance. His mind was full of dismal presenti- 
ments, whether from mysterious dreams, or the intimations of 
the medicine wolf, does not appear. u Danger," he said, " was 
lurking in their path, and there would be some fighting before 
sunset." He was bantered for his prophecy, which was at- 
tributed to his having supped too heartily, and been visited by 
bad dreams. In the course of the morning a party of hunters 
set out in pursuit of buffalo, taking with them a mule, to bring 
home the meat they should procure. They had been some 
few hours absent, when they .came clattering at full speed 
into camp, giving the war cry of Blackf eet ! Blackf eet ! Every 
one seized his weapon, and ran to learn the cause of the alarm. 
It appeared that the hunters, as they were returning leisurely, 
leading their mule well laden with prime pieces of buffalo 
meat, passed close by a small stream overhung with trees, 
about two miles from the camp. Suddenly a party of Black- 
feet, who lay in ambush along the thickets, sprang up with a 
fearful yell, and discharged a volley at the hunters. The latter 
immediately threw themselves flat on their horses, put them 
to their speed, and never paused to look behind, until they 
found themselves in camp. Fortunately, they had escaped 
without a wound; but the mule, with all the "provant," had 
fallen into the hands of the enemy. This was a loss, as well 
as an insult, not to be borne. Every man sprang to horse, 
and with rifle in hand, galloped off to punish the Blackf eet, 
and rescue the buffalo beef. They came too late; the maraud- 
ers were off, and all that they found of their mule was the 
dents of his hoofs, as he had been conveyed off at a round 
trot, bearing his savory cargo to the hills, to furnish th@ 
scampering savages with a banquet of roast meat at the ex- 
pense of the white men. 

The party returned to camp, balked of their revenge, but 
still more grievously balked of their supper. Buckeye, the 
Delaware, sat smoking by his fire, perfectly composed. As 



244 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

the hunters related the particulars of the attack, he listened 
in silence, with unruffled countenance, then pointing to the 
west, "the sun has not yet set," said he: " Buckeye did not 
dream like a fool !" 

All present now recollected the prediction of the Indian at 
daybreak, and were struck with what appeared to be its fulfil- 
ment. They called to mind, also, a long catalogue of foregone 
presentiments and predictions made at various times by the 
Delaware, and, in their superstitious credulity, began to con- 
sider him a veritable seer; without thinking how natural it 
was to predict danger, and how likely to have the prediction 
verified in the present instance, when various signs gave evi- 
dence of a lurking foe. 

The various bands of Captain Bonneville's company had now 
been assembled for some time at the rendezvous ; they had had 
their fill of feasting, and frolicking, and all the species of wild 
and often uncouth merry-making, which invariably take place 
on these occasions. Their horses, as well as themselves, had 
recovered from past famine and fatigue, and were again fit for 
active service; and an impatience began to manifest itself 
among the men once more to take the field, and set off on 
some wandering expedition. 

At this juncture M. Cerre arrived at the rendezvous at the 
head of a supply party, bringing goods and equipments from 
the States. This active leader, it will be recollected, had em- 
barked the year previously in skin-boats on the Bighorn, 
freighted with the year's collection of peltries. He had met 
with misfortunes in the course of his voyage : one of his f raiJ 
barks being upset, and part of the furs lost or damaged. 

The arrival of the supplies gave the regular finish to the 
annual revel. A grand outbreak of wild debauch ensued 
among the mountaineers; drinking, dancing, swaggering, 
gambling, quarrelling, and fighting. Alcohol, which, from 
its portable qualities, containing the greatest quantity of 
fiery spirit in the smallest compass, is the only liquor carried 
across the mountains, is the inflammatory beverage at these 
carousals, and is dealt out to the trappers at four dollars a 
pint. When inflamed by this fiery beverage, they cut all 
kinds of mad pranks and gambols, and sometimes burn all 
their clothes in their drunken bravadoes. A camp, recovering 
from one of these riotous revels, presents a serio-comic specta- 
cle; black eyes, broken heads, lack-lustre visages. Many of 
the trappers have squandered in one drunken frolic the hard- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 245 

earned wages of a year; some have run in debt, and must toil 
on to pay for past pleasure. All are sated with this deep 
draught of pleasure, and eager to commence another trapping 
campaign ; for hardship and hard work, spiced with the stim- 
ulants of wild adventures, and topped off with an annual fran- 
tic carousal, is the lot of the restless trapper. 

The captain now made his arrangements for the current 
year. Cerre and Walker, with a number of men who had 
been to California, were to proceed to St. Louis with the pack- 
ages of furs collected during the past year. Another party, 
headed by a leader named Montero, was to proceed to the 
Crow country, trap upon its various streams, and among the 
Black Hills, and thence to proceed to the Arkansas, where he 
was to go into winter quarters. 

The captain marked out for himself a widely different 
course. He intended to make another expedition, with 
twenty-three men to the lower part of the Columbia Eiver, 
and to proceed to the valley of the Multnomah ; after winter- 
ing in those parts, and establishing a trade with those tribes, 
among whom he had sojourned on his first visit, he would 
return in the spring, cross the Eocky Mountains, and join 
Montero and his party in the month of July, at the rendezvous 
of the Arkansaw ; where he expected to receive his annual sup- 
plies from the States. 

If the reader will cast his eye upon a map, he may form an 
idea of the contempt for distance which a man acquires in this 
vast wilderness, by noticing the extent of country comprised 
in these projected wanderings. Just as the different parties 
were about to set out on the 3d of July, on their opposite 
routes, Captain Bonneville received intelligence that Wyeth, 
the indefatigable leader of the salmon-fishing enterprise, who 
had parted with him about a year previously on the banks of 
the Bighorn, to descend that wild river in a bull boat, was near 
at hand, with a new levied band of hunters and trappers, and 
was on his way once more to the banks of the Columbia. 

As we take much interest in the novel enterprise of this 
" eastern man," and are pleased with his pushing and perse- 
vering spirit ; and as his movements are characteristic of fife 
in the wilderness, we will, with the reader's permission, while 
Captain Bonneville is breaking up his camp and saddling his 
horses, step back a year in time, and a few hundred miles in 
distance, to the bank of the Bighorn, and launch ourselves 
with Wyeth in his bull boat; and though his adventurous 



246 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

voyage will take us many hundreds of miles further down 
wild and wandering rivers; yet such is the magic power of 
the pen, that we promise to bring the reader safe to Bear 
River valley, by the time the last horse is saddled. 



GbLAi^CR XLI. 

A VOYAGE IN A BULL BOAT. 

It was about the middle of August (1833) that Mr. Nathaniel 
J. Wyeth, as the reader may recollect, launched his bull boat 
at the foot of the rapids of the Bighorn, and departed in ad- 
vance of the parties of Campbell and Captain Bonneville. His 
boat was made of three buffalo skins, stretched on a light 
frame, stitched together, and the seams paid with elk tallow 
and ashes. It was eighteen feet long, and about five feet six 
inches wide, sharp at each end, with a round bottom, and drew 
about a foot and a half of water— a depth too great for these 
upper rivers, which abound with shallows and sand-bars. The 
crew consisted of two half-breeds, who claimed to be white 
men, though a mixture of the French Creole and the Shawnee 
and Potawattomie. They claimed, moreover, to be thorough 
mountaineers, and first-rate hunters — the common boast of 
these vagabonds of the wilderness. Besides these, there was 
a Nez Perce lad of eighteen years of age, a kind of servant of 
all work, whose great aim, like all Indian servants, was to do 
as little work as possible; there was, moreover, a half-breed 
boy, of thirteen, named Baptiste, son of a Hudson's Bay trader 
by a Flathead beauty ; who was travelling with Wyeth to see 
the world and complete his education. Add to these, Mr. Mil- 
ton Sublette, who went as passenger, and we have the crew of 
the little bull boat complete. 

It certainly was a slight armament with which to run the 
gauntlet through countries swarming with hostile hordes, and 
a slight bark to navigate these endless rivers, tossing and 
pitching down rapids, running on snags and bumping on sand- 
bars; such, however, are the cockle-shells with which these 
hardy rovers of the wilderness will attempt the wildest 
streams ; and it is surprising what rough shocks and thumps 
these boats will endure, and what vicissitudes they will live 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 247 

through. Their duration, however, is but limited; they re' 
quire frequently to be hauled out of the water and dried, to 
prevent the hides from becoming water-soaked; and they 
eventually rot and go to pieces. 

The course of the river was a little to the north of east ; it 
ran about five miles an hour, over a gravelly bottom. The 
banks were generally alluvial, and thickly grown with cotton- 
wood trees, intermingled occasionally with ash and plum trees. 
Now and then limestone cliffs and promontories advanced 
upon the river, making picturesque headlands. Beyond the 
woody borders rose ranges of naked hills. 

Milton Sublette was the Pelorus of this adventurous bark; 
being somewhat experienced in this wild kind of navigation. 
It required all his attention and skill, however, to pilot, her 
clear of sand-bars and snags of sunken trees. There was often, 
too, a perplexity of choice, where the river branched into 
various channels, among clusters of islands ; and occasionally 
the voyagers found themselves aground and had to turn back. 

It was necessary, also, to keep a wary eye upon the land, 
for they were passing through the heart of the Crow country, 
and were continually in reach of any ambush that might be 
lurking on shore. The most formidable foes that they saw, 
however, were three grizzly bears, quietly promenading along 
the bank, who seemed to gaze at them with surprise as they 
glided by. Herds of buffalo, also, were moving about, or 
lying on the ground, like cattle in a pasture ; excepting such 
inhabitants as these, a perfect solitude reigned over the land. 
There was no sign of human habitation ; for the Crows, as we 
have already shown, are a wandering people, a race of hunters 
and warriors, who live in tents and on horseback, and are con- 
tinually on the move. 

At night they landed, hauled up their boat to dry, pitched 
their tent, and made a rousing fire. Then, as it was the first 
evening of their voyage, they indulged in a regale, relishing 
their buffalo beef with inspiring alcohol; after which, they 
slept soundly , without dreaming of Crows or Blackfeet. Early 
in the morning, they again launched the boat and committed 
themselves to the stream. 

In this way they voyaged for two days without any material 
occurrence, excepting a severe thunder storm, which com- 
pelled them to put to shore, and wait until it was passed. On 
the third morning they descried some persons at a distance on 
the river bank. As they were now, by calculation, at no great 



248 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

distance from Fort Cass, a trading post of the American Fur 
Company, they supposed these might be some of its people. 
A nearer approach showed them to be Indians. Descrying a 
woman apart from the rest, they landed and accosted her. 
She informed them that the main force of the Crow nation, 
consisting of five bands, under their several chiefs, were but 
about two or three miles below, on their way up along the 
river. This was unpleasant tidings, but to retreat was impos- 
sible, and the river afforded no hiding place. They continued 
forward, therefore, trusting that, as Fort Cass was so near at 
hand, the Crows might refrain from any depredations. 

Floating down about two miles further, they came in sight 
of the first band, scattered along the river bank, all well 
mounted; some armed with guns, others with bows and ar- 
rows, and a few with lances. They made a wildly picturesque 
appearance, managing their horses with their accustomed dex- 
terity and grace. Nothing can be more spirited than a band 
of Crow cavaliers. They are a fine race of men, averaging six 
feet in height, lithe and active, with hawks' eyes and Koman 
noses. The latter feature is common to the Indians on the 
east side of the Rocky Mountains ; those on the western side 
have generally straight or flat noses. 

Wyeth would fain have slipped by this cavalcade unnoticed ; 
but the river, at this place, was not more than ninety yards 
across; he was perceived, therefore, and hailed by the vaga- 
bond warriors, and, we presume, in no very choice language ; 
for, among their other accomplishments, the Crows are famed 
for possessing a Billingsgate vocabulary of unrivalled opu- 
lence, and for being by no means sparing of it whenever an 
occasion offers. Indeed, though Indians are generally very 
lofty, rhetorical, and figurative in their language at all great 
talks, and high ceremonials, yet, if trappers and traders may 
be believed, they are the most unsavory vagabonds in their 
ordinary colloquies ; they make no hesitation to call a spade a 
spade ; and when they once undertake to call hard names, the 
famous pot and kettle, of vituperating memory, are not to be 
compared with them for scurrility of epithet. 

To escape the infliction of any compliments of this kind, or 
dhe launching, peradventure, of more dangerous missiles, 
Wyeth landed with the best grace in his power, and ap- 
proached the chief of the band. It was Arapooish, the quon- 
dam friend of Rose the outlaw, and one whom we have al- 
ready mentioned as being anxious to promote a friendly inter- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 24U 

course between his tribe and the white men. He "was a tali, 
stout man, of good presence, and received the voyagers very 
graciously. His people, too, thronged around them, and were 
officiously attentive after the Crow fashion. One took a great 
fancy to Baptiste the Flathead boy, and a still greater fancy 
to a ring on his finger, which he transposed to his own with 
surprising dexterity, and then disappeared with a quick step 
among the crowd. 

Another was no less pleased with the Nez Perce lad, and 
nothing would do but he must exchange knives with him; 
drawing a new knife out of the Nez Perce's scabbard, and 
putting an old one in its place. Another stepped up and 
replaced this old knife with one still older, and a third helped 
himself to knife, scabbard and all. It was with much diffi- 
culty that ^"yeth and his companions extricated themselves 
from the clutches of these officious Crows before they were 
entirely plucked. 

Falling down the river a little further, they came in sight of 
the second band, and sheered to the opposite side, with the 
intention of passing them. The Crows ware not to be evaded. 
Some pointed their guns at the boat, and threatened to fire- 
others stripped, plunged into the stream, and came swimming 
across. Making a virtue of necessity, Wyeth threw a cord to 
the first that came within reach, as if he wished to be drawn 
to the shore. 

In this way he was overhauled by every band, and by the 
time he and his people came out of the busy hands of the last, 
they were eased of most of their superfluities. Nothing, in all 
probability, but the proximity of the American trading post, 
kept these land pirates from making a good prize of the bull 
boat and all its contents. 

These bands were in full march, equipped for war, and 
evidently full of mischief. They were, in fact, the very bands 
that overran the land in the autumn of 1833; partly robbed 
Fitzpatrick of his horses and effects; hunted and harassed 
Captain Bonneville and his people; broke up their trapping 
campaigns, and, in a word, drove them all out of the Crow 
country. It has been suspected that they were set on to these 
pranks by some of the American Fur Company, anxious to 
defeat the plans of their rivals of the Rocky Mountain Com- 
pany ; for at this time, their 'competition was at its height, and 
the trade of the Crow country was a great object of rivalry. 
What makes this the more probable, is, that the Crows m 



£50 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

their depredation seemed by no means bloodthirsty, but intent 
chiefly on robbing the parties of their traps and horses, 
thereby disabling them from prosecuting their hunting. 

We should observe that this year, the Eocky Mountain 
Company were pushing their way up the rivers, and establish- 
ing rival poets near those of the American Company; and 
that, at the very time of which we are speaking, Captain Sub- 
lette was ascending the Yellowstone with a keel boat, laden 
- with supplies ; so that there was every prospect of this eager 
rivalship being carried to extremities. 

The last band of Crow warriors had scarce disappeared in 
the cloud of dust they had raised, when our voyagers arrived 
at the mouth of the river, and glided into the current of the 
Yellowstone. Turning down this stream, they made for Fort 
Cass, which is situated on the right bank, about three miles 
below the Bighorn. On the opposite side they beheld a party 
of thirty-one savages, which they soon ascertained to be 
Blackfeet. The width of the river enabled them to keep at a 
sufficient distance, and they soon landed at Fort Cass. This 
was a mere fortification against Indians ; being a stockade of 
about one hundred and thirty feet square, with two bastions 
at the extreme corners. M'Tulloch, an agent of the American 
Company, was stationed there with twenty men ; two boats of 
fifteen tons burden were lying here ; but at certain seasons of 
the year a steamboat can come up to the fort. 

They had scarcely arrived, when the Blackfeet warriors 
made their appearance on the opposite bank, displaying two 
American flags in token of amity. They plunged into the 
river, swam across, and were kindly received at the fort. 
They were some of the very men who had been engaged, the 
year previously, in the battle at Pierre's Hole, and a fierce- 
looking set of fellows they were; tall and hawk-nosed, and 
very much resembling the Crows. They professed to be on an 
amicable errand, to make peace with the Crows, and set off in 
all haste, before night, to overtake them. Wyeth predicted 
that they would lose their scalps ; for he had heard the Crows 
denounce vengeance on them, for having murdered two of 
their warriors who had ventured among them on the faith of 
a treaty of peace. It is probable, however, that this pacific 
^rand was all a pretence, and that the real object of th© 
ruackfeet braves was to hang about the skirts of the Crow 
bands, steal their horses, and take the scalps of stragglers. 

At Fort Cass, Mr. Wyeth disposed of some packages of 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 251 

beaver, and a quantity of buffalo robes. On the following 
morning (August 18th), he once more launched his bull boat, 
and proceeded down the Yellowstone, which inclined in an 
east-northeast direction. The river had alluvial bottoms, 
fringed with great quantities of the sweet cotton- wood, and 
interrupted occasionally by " bluffs" of sandstone. The cur- 
rent occasionally brings down fragments of granite and por- 
phyry. 

In the course of the day, they saw something moving on the 
bank among the trees, which they mistook for game of some 
kind; and, being in want of provisions, pulled toward shore. 
They discovered, just in time, a party of Blackfeet, lurking in 
the thickets, and sheered, with all speed, to the opposite side 
of the river. 

After a time, they came in sight of a gang of elk. Wyeth 
was immediately for pursuing them, rifle in hand, but saw 
evident signs of dissatisfaction in his half -breed hunters ; who 
considered him as trenching upon their province, and med- 
dl-kig with things quite above his capacity ; for these veterans 
of the wilderness are exceedingly pragmatical, on points of 
venery and woodcraft, and tenacious of their superiority; 
looking down with infinite contempt upon all raw beginners. 
The two worthies, therefore, sallied forth themselves, but 
after a time returned empty-handed. They laid the blame, 
however, entirely on their guns; two miserable old pieces 
with flint locks, which, with all their picking and hammering, 
were continually apt to miss fire. These great boasters of the 
wilderness, however, are very often exceeding bad shots, and 
fortunate it is for them when they have old flint guns to bear 
the blame. 

The next day they passed where a great herd of buffalo 
were bellowing on a prairie. Again the Castor and Pollux of 
the wilderness sallied forth, and again their flint guns were at 
fault, and missed fire, and nothing went off but the buffalo. 
Wyeth now found there was danger of losing his dinner if he 
depended upon his hunters; he took rifle in hand, therefore, 
and went forth himself. In the course of an hour he returned 
laden with buffalo meat, to the great mortification of the two 
regular hunters, who were annoyed at being eclipsed by a 
greenhorn. 

All hands now set to work to prepare the midday repast. 
A fire was made under an immense cotton-wood tree, that 
overshadowed a beautiful piece, of meadow land; rich morsels 



252 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

of buffalo hump were soon roasting before it ; in a hearty and 
prolonged repast, the two unsuccessful hunters gradually 
recovered from their mortification ; threatened to discard their 
old flint guns as soon as they should reach the settlements, 
and boasted more than ever of the wonderful shots they had 
made, when they had guns that never missed fire. 

Having hauled up their boat to dry in the sun, previous to 
making their repast, the voyagers now set it once more afloat, 
and proceeded on their way. They had constructed a sail out of 
their old tent, which they hoisted whenever the wind was favor- 
able, and thus skimmed along down the stream. Their voy- 
age wa& pleasant, notwithstanding the perils by sea and land, 
with which they were environed. Whenever they could they 
encamped on islands for the greater security. If on the main- 
land, and in a dangerous neighborhood, they would shift their 
camp after dark, leaving their fire burning, dropping down the 
river to some distance, and making no fire at their second en- 
campment. Sometimes they would float all night with the 
current ; one keeping watch and steering while the rest slept : 
in such case, they would haul their boat on shore, at noon of 
the following day to dry ; for notwithstanding every precau - 
tion, she was gradually getting water-soaked and rotten. 

There was something pleasingly solemn and mysterious in 
thus floating down these wild rivers at night. The purity of 
the atmosphere in these elevated regions gave additional splen- 
dor to the stars, and heightened the magnificence of the fir- 
mament. The occasional rush and laving of the waters ; the 
vague sounds from the surrounding wilderness; the dreary 
howl, or rather whine of wolves from the plains; the low 
grunting and bellowing of the buffalo, and the shrill neighing 
of the elk, struck the ear with an effect unknown in the day- 
time. 

The two knowing hunters had scarcely recovered from one 
mortification when they were fated to experience another. As 
the boat was gliding swiftly round a low promontory, thinly 
covered with trees, one of them gave the alarm of Indians. 
The boat was instantly shoved from shore and every one 
caught up his rifle. " Where are they?" cried Wyeth. 

" There —there ! riding on horseback!" cried one of the 
hunters. 

"Yes; with white scarfs on!" cried the other. 

Wyeth looked in the direction they pointed, but descried 
nothing but two bald eagles, perched on a low dry branch 



ADVENTURES OB' CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 253 

beyond the thickets, and seeming, from the rapid motion of 
the boat, to be moving swiftly in an opposite direction. The 
detection of this blunder in the two veterans, who prided 
themselves on the sureness and quickness of their sight, pro- 
duced a hearty laugh at their expense, and put an end to their 
vauntings. 

The Yellowstone, above the confluence of the Bighorn, is a 
clear stream ; its waters were now gradually growing turbid, 
and assuming the yellow clay color of the Missouri. The cur- 
rent was about four miles an hour, with occasional rapids; 
some of them dangerous, but the voyagers passed them all 
without accident. The banks of the river were in many places 
precipitous with strata of bituminous coal. 

They now entered a region abounding with buffalo,— that 
ever- journeying animal, which moves in countless droves from 
point to point of the vast wilderness; traversing plains, pour- 
ing through the intricate denies of mountains, swimming 
rivers, ever on the move, guided on its boundless migrations 
by some traditionary knowledge, like the finny tribes of the 
ocean, which, at certain seasons, find their mysterious paths 
across the deep and revisit the remotest shores. 

These great migratory herds of buffalo have their hereditary 
paths and highways, worn deep through the country, and 
making for the surest passes of the mountains, and the most 
practicable fords of the rivers. When once a great column 
is in full career, it goes straight forward, regardless of all 
obstacles; those in front being impelled by the moving mass 
behind. At such times they will break through a camp, 
trampling down everything in their course. 

It was the lot of the voyagers, one night, to encamp at one 
of these buffalo landing places, and exactly on the trail. They 
had not been long asleep, when they were awakened by a great 
bellowing, and tramping, and the rush, and splash, and snort- 
ing of animals in the river. They had just time to ascertain 
that a buffalo army was entering the river on the opposite side, 
and making toward the landing place. With all haste they 
moved their boat and shifted their camp, by which time the 
head of the column had reached the shore, and came pressing 
up the bank, 

It was a singular spectacle, by the uncertain moonlight, to 
behold this countless throng making their way across the river, 
blowing, and bellowing, and splashing. Sometimes they pass 
in such dense and continuous column as to form a temporary 






254 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BOJSNEVILLE. 

dam across the river, the waters of which rise and rush over 
their backs, or between their squadrons. The roaring and rush- 
ing sound of one of these vast herds crossing a river, may 
sometimes in a still night be heard for miles. 

The voyagers now had game in profusion. They could kill 
as many buffalo as they pleased, and, occasionally, were wan- 
ton in their havoc; especially among scattered herds, that 
came swimming near the boat. On one occasion, an old buffalo 
bull approached so near that the half-breeds must fain try to 
noose him as they would a wild horse. The noose was success- 
fully thrown around his head, and secured him by the horns, 
and they now promised themselves ample sport. The buffalo 
made a prodigious turmoil in the water, bellowing, and blow- 
ing, and floundering ; and they all floated down the stream to- 
gether. At length he found foothold on a sandbar, and taking 
to his heels, whirled the boat after him like a whale when har- 
pooned ; so that the hunters were obliged to cast off their rope, 
with which strange head-gear the venerable bull made off to 
the prairies. 

On the 24th of August, the bull boat emerged, with its 
adventurous crew, into the broad bosom of the mighty Mis- 
souri. Here, about six miles above the mouth of the Yellow- 
stone, the voyagers landed at Fort Union, the distributing post 
of the American Fur Company in the western country. It was 
a stockaded fortress, about two hundred and twenty feet 
square, pleasantly situated on a high bank. Here they were 
hospitably entertained by Mr. M'Kenzie, the superintendent, 
and remained with him three days, enjoying the unusual 
luxuries of bread, butter, milk, and cheese, for the fort was 
well supplied with domestic cattle, though it had no garden. 
The atmosphere of these elevated regions is said to be too 
dry for the culture of vegetables; yet the voyagers, in coming 
down the Yellowstone, had met with plums, grapes, cherries, 
and currants, and had observed ash and elm trees. Where 
these grow the climate cannot be incompatible with garden- 
ing. 

At Fort Union, "Wyeth met with a melancholy memento of 
one of his men. This was a powder-flask, which a clerk had 
purchased from a Blackfoot warrior. It bore the initials of 
poor More, the unfortunate youth murdered the year pre- 
viously, at Jackson's Hole, by the Biackfeet, and whose bones 
had been subsequently found by Captain Bonneville. This 
flask had either been passed from hand to hand of the tribe, 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 255 

or, perhaps, had been brought to the fort by the very savage 
who slew him. 

As the bull boat was now nearly worn out, and altogether 
unfit for the broader and more turbulent stream of the Mis- 
souri, it was given up, and a canoe of cotton-wood, about 
twenty feet long, fabricated by the Blackfeet, was purchased 
to supply its place. In this Wyeth hoisted his sail, and bid-, 
ding adieu to the hospitable superintendent of Fort Union, 
turned his prow to the east, and set off down the Missouri. 

He had not proceeded many hours, before, in the evening, he 
came to a large keel boat at anchor. It proved to be the boat 
of Captain William Sublette, freighted with munitions for car- 
rying on a powerful opposition to the American Fur Company. 
The voyagers went on board, where they were treated with 
the hearty hospitality of the wilderness, and passed a social 
evening, talking over past scenes and adventures, and espec- 
ially the memorable fight at Pierre's Hole. 

Here Milton Sublette determined to give up further voyag- 
ing in the canoe, and remain with his brother; accordingly, in 
the morning, the fellow- voyagers took kind leave of each other, 
and Wyeth continued on his course. There was now no one 
on board of his boat that had ever voyaged on the Missouri ; it 
was, however, all plain sailing down the stream, without any 
chance of missing the way. 

All day the voyagers pulled gently along, and landed in the 
evening and supped; then re-embarking, they suffered the 
canoe to float down with the current ; taking turns to watch 
and sleep. The night was calm and serene ; the elk kept up a 
continual whinnying or squealing, being the commencement of 
the season when they are in heat. In the midst of the night 
the canoe struck on a sand-bar, and all hands were roused by 
the rush and roar of the wild waters, which broke around her. 
They were all obliged to jump overboard, and work hard to 
get her off, which was accomplished with much difficulty. 

In the course of the following day they saw three grizzly 
bears at different times along the bank. The last one was on 
a point of land, and was evidently umking for the river, to 
swim across. The two half-breed hunters were now eager to 
repeat the manoeuvre of the noose ; promising to entrap Bruin, 
and have rare sport in strangling and drowning him. Their 
only fear was, that he might take fright and return to land 
before they could get between him and the shore. Holding 
back, therefore, until he was fairly committed in the centre of 



256 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

the stream, they then pulled forward with might and main, so 
as to cut off his retreat, and take him in the rear. One of the 
worthies stationed himself in the bow, with the cord and slip- 
noose, the other, with the Nez Perce, managed the paddles. 
There was nothing further from the thoughts of honest Bruin, 
however, than to beat a retreat. Just as the canoe was draw- 
ing near, he turned suddenly round and made for it, with a 
horrible snarl and a tremendous show of teeth. The affrighted 
hunter called to his comrades to paddle off. Scarce had they 
turned the boat when the bear laid his enormous claws on the 
gunwale, and attempted to get on board. The canoe was nearly 
overturned, and a deluge of water came pouring over the gun- 
wale. All was clamor, terror, and confusion. Every one 
bawled out — the bear roared and snarled — one caught up a 
gun; but water had rendered it useless. Others handled their 
paddles more effectually, and beating old Bruin about the head 
and claws, obliged him to relinquish his hold. They now plied 
their paddles with might and main, the bear made the best of 
his way to shore, and so ended the second exploit of the noose ; 
the hunters determining to have no more naval contests with 
grizzly bears. 

The voyagers were now out of the range of Crows and Black- 
feet; but they were approaching the country of the Eees, or 
Arickaras ; a tribe no less dangerous ; and who were, generally, 
hostile to small parties. 

In passing through their country, Wyeth laid by all day, 
and drifted quietly down the river at night. In this way he 
passed on, until he supposed himself safely through the region 
of danger; when he resumed his voyaging in the open day. 
On the 3d of September he had landed, at midday, to dine; 
and while some were making a fire, one of the hunters 
mounted a high bank to look out for game. He had scarce 
glanced his eye round, when he perceived horses grazing on 
the opposite side of the river. Crouching down he slunk back 
to the camp, and reported what he had seen. On further 
reconnoitring, the voyagers counted twenty-one lodges ; and, 
from the number of horses, computed that there must be 
nearly a hundred Indians encamped there. They now drew 
their boat, with all speed and caution, into a thicket of water 
willows, and remained closely concealed all clay. As soon as 
the night closed in they re-embarked. The moon would rise 
early ; so that they had but about two hours of darkness to get 
past the camp. The night, however, was cloudy, with a blus- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 257 

tering "wind. Silently, and with muffled oars, they glided down 
the river, keeping close under the shore opposite to the camp 5 
watching its various lodges and fires, and the dark forms pass- 
ing to and fro between them. Suddenly, on turning a point of 
land, they found themselves close upon a camp on their own 
side of the river. It appeared that not more than one half of 
the band had crossed. They were within a few yards of the 
shore ; they saw distinctly the savages— some standing, some 
lying round the fire. Horses were grazing around. Some 
lodges were set up, others had been sent across the river. The 
red glare of the fires upon these wild groups and harsh faces, 
contrasted with the surrounding darkness, had a startling 
effect, as the voyagers suddenly came upon the scene. The 
dogs of the camp perceived them, and barked; but the Indians, 
fortunately, took no heed of their clamor. Wyeth instantly 
sheered his boat out into the stream ; when, unluckily it struck 
ut)on a sand-bar, and stuck fast. It was a perilous and trying 
sit ation ; for he was fixed between the two camps, and within 
rifle range of both. All hands jumped out into the water, and 
tried to get the boat off ; but as no one dared to give the word, 
they could not pull together, and their labor was in vain. In 
this way they labored for a long tune; until Wyeth thought of 
giving a signal for a general heave, by lifting his hat. The ex- 
pedient succeeded. They launched their canoe again into deep 
water, and getting in, had the delight of seeing the camp fires 
of the savages soon fading in the distance, 

They continued under way the greater part of the night, until 
far beyond all danger from this band, when they pulled to 
shore, and encamped. 

The following day was windy, and they came near upsetting 
their boat in carrying sail. Toward evening, the wind subsid- 
ed and a beautiful calm night succeeded. They floated along 
with the current throughout the night, taking turns to watch 
and steer. The deep stillness of the night was occasionally 
interrupted by the neighing of the elk, the hoarse lowing of 
the buffalo, the hooting of large owls, and the screeching' of 
the small ones, now and then the splash of a beavor, or the 
gong-like sound of the swan. 

Part of their voyage was extremely tempestuous ; with high 
winds, tremendous thunder, and soaking rain ; and they were 
repeatedly in extreme danger from drift-wood and sunken 
trees. On one occasion, having continued to float at night, 
after the moon was down, they ran under a great snag, or 



258 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

sunken tree, with dry branches above the water. These caugnt 
the mast, while the boat swung round, broadside to the stream, 
and began to fill with water. Nothing saved her from totai 
wreck, but cutting away the mast. She then drove down the 
stream, but left one of the unlucky half-breeds clinging to the 
snag, like a monkey to a pole. It was necessary to run in 
shore, toil up, laboriously, along the eddies and to attain some 
distance above the snag, when they launched forth again into 
the stream, and floated down with it to his rescue. 

We forbear to detail all the circumstances and adventures of 
upward of a month's voyage, down the windings and doublings 
of this vast river; in the course of which they stopped occa- 
sionally at a post of one of the rival fur companies, or at a 
government agency for an Indian tribe. Neither shall we 
dwell upon the changes of climate and productions, as the 
voyagers swept down from north to south, across several de- 
grees of latitude; arriving at the regions of oaks and syca- 
mores ; of mulberry and basswood trees ; of paroquets a,nd wild 
turkeys. This is one of tne characteristics of the middle and 
lower part of the Missouri ; but still more so o I the Mississippi 
whose rapid current traverses a succession of latitudes so as in 
a few days to float the voyager almost from the frozen regions 
to the tropics. 

The voyage of Wyeth shows the regular and unobstructed 
flow of the rivers, on the east side of the Rocky Mountains, in 
contrast to those of the western side ; where rocks and rapids 
continually menace and obstruct the voyager. We find him 
in a frail bark of skins, launching himself in a stream at the 
foot of the Rocky Mountains, and floating down from river to 
river, as they empty themselves into each other; and so he 
might have kept on upward of two thousand miles, until his 
little bark should drift into the ocean. At present we shall 
stop with him at Cantonment Leavenworth, the frontier post 
of the United States ; where he arrived on the 27th of Septem- 
ber. 

Here his first care was to have his Nez Perce Indian, and his 
half-breed boy, Baptiste, vaccinated. As they approached the 
fort, they were hailed by the sentinel. The sight of a soldier 
in full array, with what appeared to be a long knife glittering 
on the end of a musket, struck Baptiste with such affright that 
he took to his Heels, bawling for mercy at the top of his voice. 
The Nez Perce would have followed him, had not Wyeth as- 
sured him of his safety. When they underwent the operation 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 259 

of the lancet, the doctor's wife and another lady were present ; 
both beautiful women. They were the first white women that 
they had seen, and they could not keep their eyes off of them. 
On returning to the boat, they recounted to their companions 
all that they had observed at the fort ; but were especially elo- 
quent about the white squaws, who, they said, were white as 
snow, and more beautiful than any human being they had ever 
beheld. 

We shall not accompany the captain any further in his voy- 
age ; but will simply state that he made his way to Boston, 
where he succeeded in organizing an association under the 
name of " The Columbia Eiver Fishing and Trading Company," 
for his original objects of a salmon fishery and a trade in furs. 
A brig, the May Dacres, had been dispatched for the Columbia 
with supplies ; and he was now on his way to the same point, 
at the head of sixty men, whom he had enlisted at St. Louis ; 
some of whom were experienced hunters, and all more habitu- 
ated to the life of the wilderness than his first band of " down- 
easters." 

We will now return to Captain Bonneville and his party, 
whom we left, making up their packs and saddling their horses, 
in Bear Eiver valley. 



CHAPTER XLII. 

DEPARTURE OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE FOR THE COLUMBIA—AD- 
VANCE OF WYETH— EFFORTS TO KEEP THE LEAD — HUDSON'S 
BAY PARTY— A JUNKETING — A DELECTABLE BEVERAGE— HONEY 
AND ALCOHOL— HIGH CAROUSING — THE CANADIAN " BON VI= 
VANT" — A CACHE — A RAPID MOVE — WYETH AND HIS PLANS — 
HIS TRAVELLING COMPANIONS — BUFFALO HUNTING — MORE CON= 
VIV1ALITY — AN INTERRUPTION. 

It was the 8d of July that Captain Bonneville set out on his 
second visit to the banks of the Columbia, at the head of 
twenty-three men. He travelled leisurely, to keep his horses 
fresh, until on the 10th of July a scout brought word that 
Wyeth, with his band, was but fifty miles in the rear, and 
pushing forward with all speed. This caused some bustle in 
the camp ; for it was important to get first to the buffalo ground 



260 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

to secure provisions for the journey. As the horses were too 
heavily laden to travel fast, a cache was digged, as promptly 
as possible, to receive all superfluous baggage. Just as it was 
finished, a spring burst out of the earth at the bottom. Another 
cache was therefore digged, about two miles further on; when, 
as they were about to bury the effects, a line of horsemen with 
pack-horses, were seen streaking over the plain, and encamped 
close by. 

It proved to be a small band in the service of the Hudson's 
Bay Company, under the command of a veteran Canadian; 
one of those petty leaders, who, with a small party of men, end 
a small supply of goods, are employed to follow up a band of 
Indians from one hunting ground to another, and buy up their 
peltries. 

Having received numerous civilities from the Hudson's Bay 
Company, the captain sent an invitation to the officers of the 
party to an evening regale; and set to work to make jovial 
preparations. As the night air in these elevated regions is apt 
to be cold, a blazing fire was soon made, that would have done 
credit to a Christmas dinner, instead of a midsummer banquet. 
The parties met in high good-fellowship. There was abundance 
of such hunters' fare as the neighborhood furnished ; and it was 
all discussed with mountain appetites. They talked over all 
the events of their late campaigns; but the Canadian veteran 
had been unlucky in some of his transactions ; and his brow 
began to grow cloudy. Captain Bonneville remarked his rising 
spleen, and regretted that he had no juice of the grape to keep 
it down. 

A man's wit, however, is quick and inventive in the wilder- 
ness; a thought suggested itself to the captain, how he might 
brew a delectable beverage. Among his stores was a keg of 
honey but half exhausted. This he filled up with alcohol, and 
stirred the fiery and mellifluous ingredients together. The 
glorious results may readily be imagined ; a happy compound 
of strength and sweetness, enough to soothe the most raffled 
temper and unsettle the most solid understanding. 

The beverage worked to a charm ; the can circulated merrily ; 
the first deep draught washed, out every care from the mind of 
the veteran; the second elevated his spirit to the clouds. He 
was, in fact, a boon companion ; as all veteran Canadian traders 
are apt to be. He now became glorious ; talked over all his ex 
ploits, his huntings, his fightings with Indian braves, his loves 
with Indian beauties ; sang snatches of old French ditties, and 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 261 

Canadian boat songs ; drank deeper and deeper, sang louder 
and louder ; until, having reached a climax of drunken gayety, 
he gradually declined, and at length fell fast asleep upon the 
ground. After a long nap he again raised his head, imbibed 
another potation of the "sweet and strong," flashed up with 
another slight blaze of French gayety, and again fell asleep. 

The morning found him still upon the field of action, but in 
sad and sorrowful condition; suffering the penalties of past 
pleasures, and calling to mind the captain's dulcet compound, 
with many a retch and spasm. It seemed as if the honey and 
alcohol, which had passed so glibly and smoothly over his 
tongue, were at war within his stomach ; and that he had a 
swarm of bees within his head. In short, so helpless and woe- 
begone was his plight, that his party proceeded on their, march 
without him ; the captain promising to bring him on in safety 
in the after part of the day. 

As soon as this party had moved off, Captain Bonneville's 
men proceeded to construct and fill their cache ; and just as it 
was completed the party of Wyeth was descried at a distance. 
In a moment all was activity to take the road. The horses 
were prepared and mounted ; and being lightened of a great 
part of their burdens, were able to move with celerity. As to 
the worthy convive of the preceding evening, he was carefully 
gathered up from the hunter's couch on which he lay, re- 
pentant and supine, and, being packed upon one of the horses, 
was hurried forward with the convoy, groaning and ejaculat- 
ing at every jolt. 

In the course of the day, Wyeth, being lightly mounted, 
rode ahead of his party, and overtook Captain Bonneville. 
Their meeting was friendly and courteous ; and they discussed, 
sociably, their respective fortunes since they separated on the 
banks of the Bighorn. Wyeth announced his intention of 
establishing a small trading post at the mouth of the Port- 
neuf, and leaving a. few men there, with a quantity of goods.- 
to trade with the neighboring Indians. He was compelled, in 
fact, to this measure, in consequence of the refusal of the 
Eocky Mountain Fur Company to take a supply of goods 
w hich he had brought out for them according to contract ; and 
which he had no other mode of disposing of. He further in- 
formed Captain Bonneville that the competition between the 
Rocky Mountain and American Fur Companies which had 
led to such nefarious stratagems and deadly feuds, was at an 
end ; they having divided the country between them, allotting 



262 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

boundaries -within which each was to trade and hunt, so as 
not to interfere with the other. 

In company with Wyeth were travelling two men of science; 
Mr. Nuttall, the botanist; the same who ascended the Mis- 
souri at the time of the expedition to Astoria; and Mr. Town- 
shend, an ornithologist; from these gentlemen we may look 
forward to important information concerning these interest- 
ing regions. There were three religious missionaries, also, 
bound to the shores of the Columbia, to spread the light of 
the Gospel in that far wilderness. 

After riding for some time together, in friendly conversa- 
tion, Wyeth returned to his party, and Captain Bonneville 
continued to press forward, and to gain ground. At night he 
sent off the sadly sober and moralizing chief of the Hudson's 
Bay Company, under a proper escort, to rejoin his people; 
his route branching oif in a different direction. The latter 
took a cordial leave of his host, hoping, on some future occa- 
sion, to repay his hospitality in kind. 

In the morning the captain was early on the march ; throw- 
ing scouts out far ahead, to scour hill and dale, in search of 
buffalo. He had confidently expected to find game, in abun- 
dance, on the head- waters of the Portneuf ; but on reaching 
that region, not a track was to be seen. 

At length, one of the scouts, who had made a wide sweep 
away to the head-waters of the Blackfoot River, discovered 
great herds quietly grazing in the adjacent meadows. He set 
out on his return, tc report his discoveries ; bu5 night over- 
taking him, he was kindly and hospitably entertained at the 
camp of Wyeth. As soon as day dawned he hastened to his 
own camp with the welcome intelligence ; and about ten o'clock 
of the same morning, Captain Bonneville's party were in the 
midst of the game. 

The packs w r ere scarcely off the backs of the mules, when 
the runners, mounted on the fleetest horses, were fall tilt 
after the buffalo. Others of the men were busied erecting 
scaffolds, and other contrivances, for jerking or drying meat; 
others were lighting great fires for the same purpose ; soon the 
hunters began to make their appearance, bringing in the 
choicest morsels of buffalo meat ; these were placed upon the 
scaffolds, and the whole camp presented a scene of singular 
hurry and activity. At daylight the next morning, the run- 
ners again took the field, with similar success; and. after an in- 
terval of repose made their third and last chase, about twelve 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 2G3 

o'clock; for by this time, Wyeth's party was in sight. The 
game being now driven into a valley, at some distance, Wyeth 
was obliged to fix his camp there; but he came in the evening 
to pay Captain Bonneville a visit. He was accompanied by 
Captain Stewart, the amateur traveller; who had not yet sated 
his appetite for the adventurous life of the wilderness. With 
him, also, was a Mr. M'Kay, a half-breed; son of the unfor- 
tunate adventurer of the same name wiio came out in the first 
maritime expedition to Astoria and was blown up in the Ton- 
quin. His son had grown up in the employ of the British fur 
companies ; and was a prime hunter, and a daring iDartisai^ 
He held, moreover, a farm in the valley of the Wallamut. 

The three visitors, when they reached Captain Bonneville's 
camp, were surprised to find no one in it but himself and three 
men ; his party being dispersed in all directions, to make the 
most of their present chance for hunting. They remonstrated 
with him on the imprudence of remaining with so trifling a 
guard in a region so full of danger. Captain Bonneville vindi- 
cated the policy of his conduct. He never hesitated to send 
out all his hunters, when any important object was to be at- 
tained ; and experience had taught him that he was most secure 
when his forces were thus distributed over the surrounding 
country. He then was sure that no enemy could approach, 
from any direction, without being discovered by his hunters ; 
who have a quick eye for detecting the slightest signs of the 
proximity of Indians ; and wdio would instantly convey intelli- 
gence to the camp. 

The captain now set to work with his men, to prepare a suit- 
able entertainment for his guests. It w T as a time of plenty in 
the camp ; of prime hunters' dainties ; of buffalo humps, and 
buffalo tongues ; and roasted ribs, and broiled marrow r -bones : 
all these were cooked in hunters' style ; served up with a pro- 
fusion known only on a plentiful hunting ground, and discussed 
with an appetite that would astonish the puny gourmands of 
the cities. But above all, and to give a bacchanalian grace to 
this truly masculine repast, the captain produced his mellifluous 
keg of home-brewed nectar, which had been so potent over the 
senses of the veteran of Hudson's Bay. Potations, pottle deep, 
again went round ; never did beverage excite graater glee, or 
meet with more rapturous commendation. The parties w r ere 
fast advancing to that happy state which would have insured 
ample cause for the next day's repentance ; and the bees were 
already beginning to buzz about their ears, when a messenger 



264 AD VEX TUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

came spurring to the camp with intelligence that Wyeth's peo 
pie had got entangled in one of those deep and frightful ravines, 
piled with immense fragments of volcanic rock, which gash the 
whole country about the head-waters of the Blackfoot River. 
The revel was instantly at an end ; the keg of sweet and potent- 
home-brewed was deserted ; and the guests departed with all 
speed to aid in extricating their companions from the volcanic 
ravine. 



CHAPTER XLin. 

k flAPID MARCH— A CLOUD OF DUST — WILD HORSEMEN — " HIGH 
JINKS" — HORSE-RACING AND RIFLE-SHOOTING — THE GAME OF 
HAND— THE FISHING SEASON— MODE OF FISHING— TABLE LANDS 
—SALMON FISHERS— THE CAPTAIN'S VISIT TO AN INDIAN LODGE 
—THE INDIAN GIRL— THE POCKET MIRROR —SUPPER— TROUBLES 
OF AN EVIL CONSCIENCE. 

" Up and away I" is the first thought at daylight of the In- 
dian trader, when a rival is at hand and distance is to foe gained. 
Early in the morning, Captain Bonneville ordered the half 
dx-ied meat to be packed upon the horses, and leaving Wyeth 
and his party to hunt the scattered buffalo, pushed off rapidly 
to the east, to regain the plain of the Portneuf. His march 
was rugged and dangerous ; through volcanic hills, broken into 
cliffs and precipices; aoid seamed with tremendous chasms, 
where the rocks rose P&e walls. 

On the second day ; however, he encamped once more in the 
plain, and as it was <*t*H early some of the men strolled out to 
the neighboring hiTK In casting their eyes round the country, 
they perceived a gr^at cloud of dust rising in the south, and 
evidently approaching. Hastening back to the camp, they 
gave the alarm. Preparations were instantly made to receive 
an enemy ; while some of the men, throwing themselves upon 
the "running horses" kept for hunting, galloped off to recon- 
noitre. In a little while, they made signals from a distance 
that all was friendly. By this time the cloud of dust had swept 
on as if hurried along by a blast, and a ba,nd of wild horsemen 
came dashing at full leap into the camp, yelling and whooping 
like so many maniacs. Their dresses, their accoutrements, 
their mode of riding, and their uncouth clamor, made thero 



ADVENTURES OF C APT Am BONNEVILLE. 265 

seem a party of savages arrayed for war; but they proved 
to be principally half -breeds, and white men grown savage in 
the wilderness, who were employed as trappers and hunters in 
the service of the Hudson's Bay Company. 

Here was again "high jinks" in the camp. Captain Bonne- 
ville's men hailed these wild scamperers as congenial spirits, or 
rather as the very game birds of their class. They entertained 
them with the hospitality of mountaineers, feasting them at 
every lire. At first, there were mutual details of adventures 
and exploits, and broad joking mingled with peals of laughter. 
Then came on boasting of the comparative merits of horses and 
rifies, which soon engrossed every tongue. This naturally led 
to racing, and shooting at a mark ; one trial of speed and skill 
succeeded another, shouts and acclamations rose from the vic- 
torious parties, fierce altercations succeeded, and a general me- 
lee was about to take place, when suddenly the attention of the 
quarrellers was arrested by a strange kind of Indian chant or 
chorus, that seemed to operate upon them as a charm. Their 
fury was at an end ; a tacit reconciliation succeeded, and the 
ideas of the whole mongrel crowd — whites, half-breeds, and 
squaws — were turned in a new direction. They all formed into 
groups, and taking their places at the several fires, prepared 
for one of the most exciting amusements of the Nez Perces and 
the other tribes ol the Far West. 

The choral chant, in fact, which had thus acted as a charm, 
was a kind of wild accompaniment to the favorite Indian game 
of ik Hand." This is played by two parties drawn out in oppo- 
site platoons before a blazing fire. It is in some respects like 
the old game of passing the ring or the button, and detecting 
the hand which holds it. In the present game, the object hid- 
den, or the cache as it is called by the trappers, is a small splint 
of wood, or other diminutive article, that may be concealed hi 
the closed hand. This is passed backward and forward among 
the party "in hand," while the party "out of hand" guess 
where it is concealed. To heighten the excitement and confuse 
the guessers, a number of dry poles are laid before each pla- 
toon, upon which the members of the party "in hand "beat 
furiously with short staves, keeping time to the choral chant 
already mentioned, which waxes fast and furious as the gam© 
proceeds. As large bets are staked upon the game, the excite- 
ment is prodigious. Each party in turn bursts out in full cho- 
rus, beating, and yelling, and working themselves up into such 
a heat that the perspiration rolls down their naked shoulders. 



266 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

even in the cold of a winter night. The bets are doubled and 
trebled as the game advances, the mental excitement increases 
almost to madness, and all the worldly effects of the gamblers 
are often hazarded upon the position of a straw. 

These gambling games were kept up throughout the night; 
every fire glared upon a group that looked like a crew of 
maniacs at their frantic orgies, and the scene would have been 
kept up throughout the succeeding day, had not Captain Bonne- 
ville interposed his authority, and, at the usual hour, issued 
his marching orders. 

Proceeding down the course of Snake River, the hunters 
regularly returned to camp in the evening laden with wild 
geese, which were yet scarcely able to fly, and were easily 
caughti in great numbers. It was now the season of the annual 
fish-fea-st, with which the Indians in these parts celebrate the 
first appearance of the salmon in this river. These fish are 
taken in great numbers at the numerous falls of about four feet 
pitch. The Indians flank the shallow wafer just below, and 
spear them as they attempt to pass. In wide parts of the river, 
also, they place a sort of chevaux-de-frize, or fence, of poles in- 
terwoven with withes, and forming an angle in the middle of 
the current, where a small opening is left for the salmon to 
pr.3S. Ground this opening the Indians station themselves on 
small rafts, and ply their spears with great success. 

The table lands so common in this region have a sandy soil, 
inconsiderable in depth, and covered with sage, or more prop- 
erly speaking, wormwood. Below this is a level stratum of 
rock, riven occasionally by frightful chasms. The whole plain 
rises as it approaches the river, and terminates with high and 
broken cliffs, difficult to pass, and in many places so precipitous 
that it is impossible, for days together, to get down to the 
water's edge, to give drink to the horses. This obliges the 
traveller occasionally to abandon the vicinity of the river, and 
make a wide sweep into the interior. 

It was now far in the month of July, and the party suffered 
extremely from sultry weather and dusty travelling. The flies 
and gnats, too, were extremely troublesome to the horses; 
especially when keeping along the edge of the river where it 
runs between low sand-banks. Whenever the travellers en- 
camped in the afternoon, the horses retired to the gravelly 
shores and remained there, without attempting to feed until 
the cool of the evening. As to the travellers, they plunged 
Into the clear and cool current, to wash away the dust of the 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 267 

road and refresh themselves after the heat of the day. The 
nights were always cool and pleasant. 

At one place where they encamped for some time, the river 
was nearly five hundred yards wide, and studded with grassy 
islands, adorned with groves of willow and cotton-wood. Here 
the Indians were assembled in great numbers, and had barri- 
caded the channels between the islands, to enable them to 
spear the salmon with greater facility. They were a timid 
race, and seemed unaccustomed to the sight of white mem 
Entering one of the huts, Captain Bonneville found the inhab* 
itants just proceeding to cook a fine salmon* It is put into a 
pot filled with cold water, and hung over the fire. The 
moment the water begins to boil, the fish is considered cooked. 

Taking his seat unceremoniously, and lighting his pipe, the 
captain awaited the cooking of the fish, intending to invite 
himself to the repast. The owner of the hut seemed to take 
his intrusion in good part. While conversing with him the 
captain felt something move behind him, and turning round 
and removing a few skins and old buffalo robes, discovered a 
young girl, about fourteen years of age, crouched beneath, who 
directed her large black eyes full in his face, and continued to 
gaze in mute surprise and terror. The captain endeavored to 
dispel her fears, and drawing a bright ribbon from his pocket, 
attempted repeatedly to tie it round her neck. She jerked 
back at each attempt, uttering a sound very much like a snarl ; 
nor could all the blandishments of the captain, albeit a pleas- 
ant, good-looking, and somewhat gallant man, succeed in con- 
quering the shyness of the savage little beauty. His attentions 
were now turned toward the parents, whom he presented with 
an awl and a little tobacco, and having thus secured their 
good-will, continued to smoke his pipe and watch the salmon. 
While thus seated near the threshold, an urchin of the family 
approached the door, but catching a sight of the strange guest, 
ran off screaming with terror and ensconced himself behind 
ihe long straw at the back of the hut. 

Desirous to dispel entirely this timidity, and to open a trade 
with the simple inhabitants of the hut, who, he did not doubt, 
had furs somewhere concealed, the captain now drew forth 
that grand lure in the eyes of a savage, a pocket mirror. The 
sight of it was irresistible. After examining it for a long 
time with wonder and admiration, they produced a musk-rat 
skin, and offered it in exchange, The captain shook his head ; 
but purchased the skin for a couple of buttons— superfluous 



£dS ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

trinkets ! as the worthy lord of the hovel had neither coat bo* 
breeches on which to place them. 

The mirror still continued the great object of desire, particu- 
larly in the eyes of the old housewife, who produced a pot of 
parched flour and a string of biscuit roots. These procured 
her some trifle in return ; but could not command the purchase 
of the mirror. The salmon being now completely cooked, they 
all joined heartily in supper. A bounteous portion was depos* 
ited before the captain by the old woman, upon some fresh 
grass, which served instead of a platter; and never had he 
tasted a salmon boiled so completely to his fancy. 

Supper being over, the captain lighted his pipe and passed it 
to his host, who, inhaling the smoke, puffed it through his 
nostrils so assiduously, that in a little while his head mani- 
fested signs of confusion and dizziness. Being satisfied, by 
this time, of the kindly and companionable qualities of the 
captain, he became easy and communicative; and at length 
hinted something about exchanging beaver skins for horses. 
The captain at once offered to dispose of his steed, which stood 
fastened at the door. The bargain was soon concluded, where- 
upon the Indian, removing a pile of bushes under which his 
valuables were concealed, drew forth the number of skins 
agreed upon as the price. 

Shortly afterward, some of the captain's people coming up, 
he ordered another horse to be saddled, and, mounting it, took 
his departure from the hut, after distributing a few trifling 
presents among its simple inhabitants. During all the time of 
his visit, the little Indian girl had kept her large black eyes 
fixed upon him, almost without winking, watching every 
movement with awe and wonder; and as he rode off, remained 
gazing after him, motionless as a statue. Her father, however, 
delighted with his new acquaintance, mounted his newly pur- 
chased horse, and followed in the train of the captain, to whom 
he continued to be a faithful and useful adherent during his 
sojourn in the neighborhood. 

The cowardly effects of an evil conscience were evidenced in 
the conduct of one of the captain's men, who had been in the 
Californian expedition. During all their intercourse with the 
Harmless people of this place, he had manifested uneasiness 
and anxiety. While his companions mingled freely and joy- 
ously with the natives, he went about with a restless, sus- 
picious look; scrutinizing every painted form and face and 
starting often at the sudden approach of some meek and in- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 269 

offensive savage, who regarded him with reverence as a supe- 
rior being. Yet this was ordinarily a bold fellow, who never 
flinched from danger, nor turned pale at the prospect of a bat- 
tle. At length he requested permission of Captain Bonneville 
to keep out of the way of these people entirely. Their strik- 
ing resemblance, he said, to the people of Ogden's Eiver, made 
him continually fear that some among them might have 
seen him in that expedition; and might seek an oppor- 
tunity of revenge. Ever after this, while they remained 
in this neighborhood, he would skulk out of the way and 
keep aloof when any of the native inhabitants approached. 
"Such," observes Captain Bonneville, "is the effect of self- 
reproach, even upon the roving trapper in the wilderness, who 
has little else to fear than the stings of his own guilty con- 
science." 



CHAPTER XLIV. 

OUTFIT OF A TRAPPER— RISKS TO WHICH HE IS SUBJECTED— 
PARTNERSHIP OF TRAPPERS— ENMITY OF INDIANS — DISTANT 
SMOKE— A COUNTRY ON FIRE— GUN CREEK— GRAND ROND— FINE 
PASTURES— PERPLEXITIES IN A SMOKY COUNTRY — CONFLAGRA- 
TION OF FORESTS. 

It had been the intention of Captain Bonneville, in descend- 
ing along Snake River, to scatter his trappers upon the smaller 
streams. In this way a range of country is trapped by small 
detachments from a main body. The outfit of a trapper is 
generally a rifle, a pound of powder, and four pounds of lead, 
with a bullet mould, seven traps, an axe, a hatchet, a knife 
and awl, a camp kettle, two blankets, and, where supplies are 
plenty, seven pounds of flour. He has, generally, two or three 
horses, to carry himself and his baggage and peltries. Two 
trappers commonly go together, for the purposes of mutual 
assistance and support ; a larger party could not easily escape 
the eyes of the Indians. It is a service of peril, and even 
more so at present than formerly, for the Indians, since they 
have got into the habit of trafficking peltries with the traders, 
have learned the value of the beaver, and look upon the trap- 
pers as poachers, who are filching the riches from their 
streams, and interfering with their market. They make no 



270 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

hesitation, therefore, to murder the solitary trapper, and thus 
destroy a competitor, while they possess themselves of his 
spoils. It is with regret we add, too, that this hostility has in 
many cases been instigated by traders, desirous of injuring 
their rivals, but who have themselves often reape J the fruits 
of the mischief they have sown. 

When two trappers undertake any considerable stream, 
their mode of proceeding is, to hide their horses in some lonely 
glen, where they can graze unobserved. They then build a 
small hut, dig out a canoe from a cotton-wood tree, and in this 
poke along shore silently, in the evening, and set their traps. 
These they revisit in the same silent way at daybreak. "When 
they take any beaver they bring it home, skin it, stretch the 
skins on sticks to dry, and feast upon the flesh. The body r 
hung up before the fire, tun. 3 by its own weight, and is roasted 
in a superior style ; the tail is the trapper's tidbit ; it is cut off, 
put on the end of a stick, and toasted, and is considered even 
a greater dainty than the tongue or the marrow-bone of a 
buffalo. 

With all their silence and caution, however, the poor trap- 
pers cannot always escape their hawk-eyed enemies. Their 
trail has been discovered, perhaps, and followed up for many 
a mile; or their smoke has been seen curling up out of the 
secret glen, or has been scented by the savages, whose sense of 
smell is almost as acute as that of sight. Sometimes they are 
pounced upon when in the act of setting their traps ; at other 
times, they are roused from their sleep by the horrid war- 
whoop; or, perhaps, have a bullet or an arrow whistling about 
their ears, in the midst of one of their beaver banquets. In 
this way they are picked off, from time to time, and nothing 
is known of them, until, perchance, their bones are found 
bleaching in some lonely ravine, or on the banks of some 
nameless stream, which from that time is called after them. 
Many of the small streams beyond the mountains thus perpet- 
uate the names of unfortunate trappers that have been mur- 
dered on their banks. 

A knowledge of these dangers deferred Captain Bonneville, 
in the present instance, from detaching small parties of trap- 
pers as he had intended; for his scouts brought him word that 
formidable bands of the Banneck Indians were lying on the 
Boisee and Payette Bivers, at no great distance, so that they 
would be apt to detect and cut off any stragglers. It behooved 
him, also, to keep his party together, to guard against any 



jlD VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 271 

predatory attack upon the main body; he continued on his 
way, therefore, without dividing his forces. And fortunate it 
was that he did so ; for in a little while he encountered one of 
the phenomena of the western wilds that would effectually 
have prevented his scattered people from finding each other 
again. In a word, it was the season of setting fire to the prai- 
ries. As he advanced he began to perceive great clouds of 
smoke at a distance, rising by degrees, and spreading over the 
whole face of the country. The atmosphere became dry and 
surcharged with murky vapor, parching to the skin, and irri- 
tating to the eyes. When travelling among the hills, they 
gould scarcely discern objects at the distance of a few paces; 
indeed, the least exertion of the vision was painful. There 
was evidently some vast conflagration in the direction toward 
which they were proceeding ; it was as yet at a great distance, 
and during the day they could only see the smoke rising in 
larger and denser volumes, and rolling forth in an immense 
canopy. At night the skies were all glowing with the reflec- 
tion of unseen fires, hanging in an immense body of lurid light 
high above the horizon. 

Having reached Gun Creak, an important stream coming 
from the left, Captain Bonneville turned up its course, to 
traverse the mountains and avoid the great bend of Snake 
River. Being now out of the range of the Bannecks, he sent 
out his people in all directions to hunt the antelope for present 
supplies ; keeping the dried meats for places where game might 
be scarce. 

During four days that the party were ascending Gun Creek, 
the smoke continued to increase so rapidly that it was impossi- 
ble to distinguish the face of the country and ascertain land- 
marks. Fortunately, the travellers fell upon an Indian trail, 
which led them to the head- waters of the Fourche de Glace or 
Ice River, sometimes called the Grand Rond. Here they 
found all the plains and valleys wrapped in one vast confla- 
gration ; which swept over the long grass in billows of flame, 
shot up every bush and tree, rose in great columns from the 
groves, and set up clouds of smoke that darkened the at- 
mosphere. To avoid this sea of fire, the travellers had to 
pursue their course close along the foot of the mountains; but 
the irritation from the smoke continued to be tormenting. 

The country about the head-waters of the Grand Rond 
spreads out into broad and level prairies, extremely fertile, and 
watered by mountain springs and rivulets. These prairies are 



272 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

resorted to by small bands of the Skynses, to pasture their 
horses, as well as to banquet upon the salmon which abound in 
the neighboring waters. They take these fish in great quanti- 
ties and without the least difficulty; simply taking them out of 
the water with their hands, as they flounder and struggle in the 
numerous long shoals of the principal streams. At the time 
the travellers passed over these prairies, some of the narrow, 
deep streams by which they were intersected were completely 
choked with salmon, which they took in great numbers. The 
wolves and bears frequent these streams at this season, to 
avail themselves of these great fisheries. 

The travellers continued, for many days, to experife«^c great 
difficulties and discomforts from this wide conflagration, which 
seemed to embrace the whole wilderness. The sun was for a 
great part of the time obscured by the smoke, and the loftiest 
mountains were hidden from view. Blundering along in this 
region of mist and uncertainty, they were frequently obliged 
to make long circuits, to avoid obstacles which they could not 
perceive until close upon them. The Indian trails were their 
safest guides, for though they sometimes appeared to lead 
them out of their direct course, they always conducted them 
to the passes. 

On the 26th of August, they reached the head of the Way- 
lee- way Eiver. Here, in a valley of the mountains through 
which this head-water makes its way, they found a band of 
the Skynses, who were extremely sociable, and appeared to be 
well disposed, and as they spoke the Nez Perce language, an 
intercourse was easily kept up with them. 

In the pastures on the bank of this stream, Captain Bonne- 
ville encamped for a time, for the purpose of recruiting the 
strength of his horses. Scouts were now sent out to explore 
the surrounding country, and search for a convenient pass 
through the mountains toward the Wallamut or Multnomah. 
After an absence of twenty days they returned weary and dis- 
couraged. They had been harassed and perplexed in rugged 
mountain defiles, where their progress was continually im- 
peded by rocks and precipices. Often they had been obliged 
to travel along the edges of frightful ravines, where a false 
step would have been fatal. In one of these passes, a horse 
fell from the brink of a precipice, and would have been dashed 
to pieces had he not lodged among the branches of a tree, from 
which he was extricated with great difficulty. These, how- 
ever, were not the worst of their difficulties and perils. The 



ADVENTURES OF 1 CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 273 

great conflagration of the country, v,iiick had harassed the 
main party in its march, was still more awful the further this 
exploring party proceeded. The flames which swept rapidly 
over the light vegetation of the prairies assumed a fiercer 
character and took a stronger hold amid the wooded glens and 
ravines of the mountains. Some of the deep gorges and defiles 
sent up sheets of flame, and clouds of lurid smoke, and sparks 
and cinders that in the night made them resemble the craters 
of volcanoes. The groves and forests, too, which crowned the 
cliffs, shot up their towering columns of fire, and added to the 
furnace glow of the mountains. With these stupendous sights 
were combined the rushing blasts caused by the rarefied air, 
which roared and howled through the narrow glens, and 
whirled forth the smoke and flames in impetuous wreaths, 
Ever and anon, too, was heard the crash of falling trees, some- 
times tumbfing from crags* and precipices, with tremendous 
sounds. 

In the daytime, the mountains were wrapped in smoke so 
dense and blinding, that the explorers, if by chance they sepa- 
rated, could only find each other by shouting. Often, too, 
they had to grope their way through the yet burning forests, 
in constant peril from the limbs and trunks of trees, which 
frequently fell across their path, At length they gave up the 
attempt to find a pass as hopeless, under actual circumstances, 
and made their way back to the camp to report their aPv™. 



CHAPTER XLV. 

THE SKYNSES — THEIR TRAFFIC — HUNTING — FOOD — HORSES — A 
HORSE-RACE — DEVOTIONAL FEELING OF THE SKYNSES, NEZ 
PERCES AND FLATHEADS — PRAYERS — EXHORTATIONS — A 
PREACHER ON HORSEBACK— EFFECT OF RELIGION ON THE MAN- 
NERS OF THE TRIBES— A NEW LIGHT. 

During the absence of this detachment, a sociable inter- 
course had been kept up between the main party and the 
Skynses, who had removed into the neighborhood of the camp. 
These people dwell about the waters of the Way-leQ way. and 
the adjacent country, and trade regularly with the Hudson's 
Bay Company; generally giving horses in exchange for the 



274 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

articles of which they stand in need. They bring beavei 
skins, also, to the trading posts; not procured by trapping, 
but by a course of internal tiaffic with the shy and ignorant 
Shoshokoes and Too-el-icans, who keep in distant and un- 
frequented parts of the country, and will not venture near the 
trading houses. The Skynses hunt the dear and elk occasion- 
ally; and depend, for a part of the year, on fishing. Their 
main subsistence, however, is upon roots, especially the 
kaniash. This bulbous root is said to be of a delicious flavor 
and highly nutritious. The women dig it up in great quanti- 
ties, steam it, and deposit it in caches for winter provisions. 
It grows spontaneously, and absolutely covers the plains. 

This tribe were comfortably clad and equipped. They had a 
few rifles among them, and were extremely desirous of bar- 
tering for those of Captain Bonneville's men ; offering a couple 
of good running horses for a light rifie. Their first-rate horses, 
however, were not to be procured from them on any terms. 
They almost invariably use ponies ; but of a breed infinitely 
superior to any in the United States. They are fond of trying 
their speed and bottom, and of betting upon them. 

As Captain Bonneville was desirous of judging of the com- 
parative merit of their horses, he purchased one of their racers, 
and had a trial of speed between that, an American, and a 
Shoshonie, which were supposed to be well matched. The 
race-course was for the distance of one mile and a half out and 
back. For the first half mile the American took the lead by a 
few hands; but, losing his wind, soon fell far behind; leaving 
the Shoshonie and Skynse to contend together. For a mile 
and a half they went head and head: but at the turn the 
Skynse took the lead and won the race with great ease, scarce 
drawing a quick breath when all was over. 

The Skynses, like the Nez Perces and the Flatheads, have a 
strong devotional feeling, which has been successfully culti- 
vated by some of the resident personages of the Hudson's Bay 
Company. Sunday is invariably kept sacred among these 
tribes. They will not raise their camp on that day, unless in 
extreme cases of danger or hunger : neither will they hunt, nor 
fish, nor trade, nor perform any kind of labor on that day. A 
part of it is passed in prayer and religious ceremonies. Some 
chief, who is generally at the same time what is called a 
4 ' medicine man, " assembles the community. After invoking 
blessings from the Deity, he addresses the assemblage, exhort- 
ing them to good conduct; to be diligent in providing for their 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 275 

families ; to abstain from lying and stealing ; to avoid quarrel- 
ling or cheating in their play, and to be just and hospitable to 
all strangers who may be among them. Prayers and exhorta- 
tions are also made, early in the morning, on week days. 
Sometimes, all this is done by the chief from horseback; mov- 
ing slowly about the camp, w T ith his hat on, and uttering his 
exhortations with a loud voice. On all occasions, the by- 
standers listen with profound attention; and at the end of 
every sentence respond one word in unison, apparently equiv- 
alent to an amen. While these prayers and exhortations are 
going on, every employment in the camp is suspended. If an 
Indian is riding by the place, he dismounts, holds his horse, 
and attends with reverence until all is done. When the chief 
has finished his prayer or exhortation, he says, "I have done;" 
upon which there is a general exclamation in unison. 

With these religious services, probably derived from the 
white men, the tribes above-mentioned mingle some of their 
old Indian ceremonials, such as dancing to the cadence of a 
song or ballad, which is generally done in a large lodge pro- 
vided for the purpose. Besides Sundays, they likewise observe 
the cardinal holidays of the Roman Catholic Church. 

Whoever has introduced these simple forms* of religion 
among these poor savages, has evidently understood their 
characters and capacities, and effected a great melioration of 
their manners. Of this we speak not merely from the testi- 
mony of Captain Bonneville, but likewise from that of Mr. 
Wyeth, who passed some months in a travelling camp oi the 
Flatheads. - 'During the time I have been with them," says he, 
"I have never known an instance of theft among them: the 
least thing, even to a bead or pin, is brought to you, it found ; 
and often, things that have been thrown away. JN either 
have I known any quarrelling, nor lying. This absence of all 
quarrelling the more surprised me, when I came to see the 
various occasions that would have given rise to it among the 
whites: the crowding together of from twelve to eighteen 
hundred horses, which have to be driven into camp at night, 
to be picketed, to be packed in the morning ; the gathering of 
fuel in places where it is extremely scanty. All this, however, 
is done without confusion or disturbance. 

"They have a mild, playful, laughing disposition; and this 
is portrayed in their countenances. They are polite, and un- 
obtrusive. When one speaks, the rest pay strict attention: 
when he is done, another assents by * yes,' or dissents by ' no: T 



276 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

and then states his reasons, which are listened to with equal 
attention. Even the children are more peaceable than any 
other children. I never heard an angry word among them, 
nor any quarrelling ; although there were, at least, five hundred 
of them together, and continually at play. With all this 
quietness of spirit, they are brave when put to the test ; and 
are an overmatch for an equal number of Blackf eet. " 

The foregoing observations, though gathered from Mr. 
Wyeth as relative to the Flatheads, apply, in the main, to the 
Skynses also. Captain Bonneville, during his sojourn with 
the latter, took constant occasion, in conversing with their 
principal men, to encourage them in the cultivation of moral 
and religious habits; drawing a comparison between their 
peaceable and comfortable course of life and that of other 
tribes, and attributing it to their superior sense of morality 
tmd religion. He frequently attended their religious services, 
With his people; always enjoining on the latter the most rever- 
ential deportment ; and he observed that the poor Indians were 
always pleased to have the white men present. 

The disposition of these tribes is evidently favorable to a 
considerable degree of civilization. A few farmers settled 
among them might lead them, Captain Bonneville thinks, to 
till the earth and cultivate grain ; the country of the Skynses 
and Nez Perces is admirably adapted for the raising of cattle. 
A Christian missionary or two, and some trifling assistance 
from government, to protect them from the predatory and 
warlike tribes, might lay the foundation of a Christian people 
in the midst of the great western wilderness, who would 
" wear the Americans near their hearts." 

We must not omit to observe, however, in qualification of 
the sanctity of this Sabbath in the wilderness, that these tribes 
who are all ardently addicted to gambling and horseracing, 
make Sunday a peculiar day for recreations of the kind, not 
deeming them in any wise out of season. After prayers and 
pious ceremonials are over, there is scarce an hour in the day, 
says Captain Bonneville, that you do not see several horses 
racing at full speed; and in every corner of the camp are 
groups of gamblers, ready to stake everything upon the all- 
absorbing game of hand. The Indians, says Wyeth, appear to 
enjoy their amusements with more zest than the whites. 
They are great gamblers; and in proportion to their means, 
play bolder and bet higher than white men. 

The cultivation of the religious feeling, above noted, among 



ADVENTUIIES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 277 

the savages, has been at times a convenient policy with some 
of the more knowing traders ; who have derived great credit 
and influence among them by being considered u medicine 
men;" that is, men gifted with mysterious knowledge. This 
feeling is also at times played upon by religious charlatans, 
who are to be found in savage as well as civilized life. One of 
these was noted by Wyeth, during his sojourn among the 
Flatheads. A new great man, says he, is rising in the camp, 
who aims at power and sway. He covers his designs under 
the ample cloak of religion; inculcating some new doctrines 
and ceremonials among those who are more simple than him- 
self. He has already made proselytes of one fifth of the camp ; 
beginning by working on the women, the children, and the 
weak-minded. His followers are all dancing on the plain, to 
their own vocal music. The more knowing ones of the tribe 
look on and laugh ; thinking it all too foolish to do harm ; but 
they will soon find that women, children, and fools, form a 
large majority of every community, and they will have, event- 
ually, to follow the new light, or be considered among the 
profane. As soon as a preacher or pseudo prophet of the kind 
gets followers enough, he either takes command of the tribe, or 
branches off and sets up for an independent chief and " medi- 
cine man." 



CHAPTER XLVI. 

SCARCITY IN THE CAMP— REFUSAL OF SUPPLIES BY THE HUDSON'S 

BAY COMPANY— CONDUCT OF THE INDIANS— A HUNGRY RETREAT 
—JOHN DAY'S RIVER — THE BLUE MOUNTAINS— SALMON FISHING: 
ON SNAKE RIVER— MESSENGERS FROM THE CROW COUNTRY- 
BEAR RIVER VALLEY — IMMENSE MIGRATION OF BUFFALO— DAG- 
GER OF BUFFALO HUNTING— A WOUNDED INDIAN — EUTAW IN- 
DIANS—A " SURROUND" OF ANTELOPES. 

Provisions were now growing scanty in the camp, and Cap- 
tain Bonneville found it necessary to seek a new neighborhood. 
Taking leave, therefore, of his friends, the Skynses, he set off 
to the westward, and, crossing a low range of mountains, en- 
camped on the head-waters of the Ottolais. Being now within 
thirty miles of Fort Wallah- Wallah, the trading post of the Hud- 
son's t<aj Company, ne seni; a smad detachment of men thither 



278 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONXErfLLE. 

to purchase corn for the subsistence of his party. The men were 
well received at the fort ; but all supplies for their camp were 
peremptorily refused. Tempting offers were made them, how- 
ever, if they would leave their present employ, and enter into 
the service of the company ; but they were not to be seduced. 

When Captain Bonneville saw his messengers return empty- 
handed, he ordered an instant move, for there was imminent 
danger of famine. He pushed forward down the course of the 
Ottolais, which runs diagonal to the Columbia, and falls into it 
about fifty miles below the Wallah- Wallah. His route lay 
through a beautiful undulating country, covered with horses 
belonging to the Skynses, who sent them there for pasturage. 

On reaching the Columbia, Captain Bonneville hoped to open 
a trade with the natives, for fish and other provisions, but to 
his surprise they kept aloof, and even hid themselves on his 
approach. He soon discovered that they were under the influ- 
ence of the Hudson's Bay Company, who had forbidden them 
to trade, or hold any communion with him. He proceeded 
along the Columbia, but it was everywhere the same ; not an 
article of provisions was to be obtained from the natives, and 
he was at length obliged to kill a couple of his horses to sustain 
his famishing people. He now came to a halt, and consulted 
what was to be done. The broad and beautiful Columbia lay 
before them, smooth and unruffled as a mirror ; a little more 
journeying would take them to its lower region; to the noble 
valley of the Wallamut, their projected winter quarters. To 
advance under present circumstances would be to court starva- 
tion. The resources of the country were locked against them, 
by the influence of a jealous and powerful monopoly. If they 
reached the Wallamut, they could scarcely hope to obtain suf- 
ficient supplies for the winter; if they lingered any longer in 
the country the snows would gather upon the mountains and 
cut off their retreat. By hastening their return, they would be 
able to reach the Blue Mountains just in time to find the eik ? 
the deer, and the bighorn ; and after they had supplied them- 
selves with provisions, they might push through the mountains 
before they were entirely blocked up by snow. Influenced by 
these considerations, Captain Bonneville reluctantly turned his 
back a second time on the Columbia, and Get off for the Blue 
Mountains. He took his course up John Day's River, so called 
from one of the hunters in the original Astorian enterprise. 
As famine was at his heels, he travelled fast, and reached the 
mountains by the 1st of October. He entered by the opening 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 279 

made by John Day's Eiver ; it was a rugged and difficult defile, 
but he and his men had become accustomed to hard scrambles of 
the kind. Fortunately, the September rains had extinguished 
the fires which recently spread over these regions; and the 
mountains, no longer wrapped in smoke, now revealed all their 
grandeur and sublimity to the eye. 

They were disappointed in their expectation of finding abun- 
dant game in the mountains ; large bands of the natives had 
passed through, returning from their fishing expeditions, and 
had driven all the game before them. It was only now and then 
that the hunters could bring in sufficient to keep the party 
from starvation. 

To add to their distress, they mistook their route, and wan- 
dered for ten days among high and bald hills of clay. At 
length, after much perplexity, they made their way to the 
banks of Snake Eiver, following the course of which, they were 
sure to reach their place of destination. 

It was the 20th of October when they found themselves once 
more upon this noted stream. The Shoshokoes, whom they 
had met with in such scanty numbers on their journey down 
the river, now absolutely thronged its banks to profit by th^ 
abundance of salmon, and lay up a stock for winter provis ) 
Scaffolds were everywhere erected, and immense quantities of 
fish drying upon them. At this season of the year, however, 
the salmon are extremely poor, and the travellers needed their 
keen sauce of hunger to give them a relish. 

In some places the shores were completely covered with a 
stratum of dead salmon, exhausted in ascending the river, or 
destroyed at the falls; the fetid odor of which tainted the 
air. 

It was not until the travellers reached the head- waters of the 
Portneuf that they really found themselves in a region of 
abundance. Here the buffalo were in immense herds ; and here 
they remained for three days, slaying and cooking, and feast- 
ing, and indemnifying themselves by an enormous carnival, 
for a long and hungry Lent. Their horses, too, found good 
pasturage, and enjoyed a little rest after a severe spell of hard 
travelling. 

During this period, two horsemen arrived at the camp, who 
proved to be messengers sent express for supplies from Mon- 
tero's party; which had been sent to beat up the Crow country 
and the Black Hills, and to winter on the Arkansas, They re- 
ported that all was w ell with the party, but that they had not 



280 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

been able to accomplish the whole of their mission, and were 
still in the Crow country, where they should remain until 
joined by Captain Bonneville in the spring. The captain re- 
tained the messengers with him until the 17th of November, 
when, having reached the caches on Bear Eiver, and procured 
thence the required supplies, he sent them back to their party ; 
appointing a rendezvous toward the last of June following, on 
the forks of Wind Eiver valley, in the Ciow country. 

He now remained several days encamped near the caches^ 
and having discovered a small band of Shoshonies in his neigh- 
borhood, purchased from them lodges, furs, and other articles 
of winter comfort, and arranged with them to encamp together 
during the winter. 

The place designed by the captain for the wintering ground 
was on the upper part of Bear Eiver, some distance olf . He 
delayed approaching it as long as possible, in order to avoid 
driving off the buffalo, which would be needed for winter pro- 
visions. He accordingly moved forward but slowly, merely as 
the want of game and grass obliged him to shift his position. 
The weather had already become extremely cold, and the snow 
lay to a considerable depth. To enable the horses to carry as 
much dried meat as possible, he caused a cache to be made, in 
which ail the baggage that could be spared was deposited. 
This done, the party continued to move slowly toward then' 
winter quarters. 

They were not doomed, however, to suffer from scarcity 
during the present winter. The people upon Snake Eiver 
having chased off the buffalo before the snow had become 
deep, immense herds now came trooping over the mountains ; 
forming dark masses on their sides, from which their deep- 
mouthed bellowing sounded like the low peals and mutterings 
from a gathering thunder-cloud. In effect, the cloud broke, 
and down came the torrent thundering into the valley. It is 
utterly impossible, according to Captain Bonneville, to convey 
an idea of the effect produced by the sight of such countless 
throngs of animals of such bulk and spirit, all rushing forward 
as if swept on by a whirlwind. 

The long privation which the travellers had suffered gave 
uncommon ardor to their present hunting. One of the Indians 
attached to the party, finding himself on horseback in the 
midst of the buff? Ices, without either rifle, or bow and arrows, 
dashed after a fine cow that was passing close by him, and 
plunged his knife into her side with such lucky aim as to bring 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. ggl 

her to the ground. It was a daring deed; but hunger had 
made him almost desperate. 

The buffaloes are sometimes tenacious of life, and must be 
wounded in particular parts. A bail striking the shagged 
frontlet of a bull produces no other effect than a toss of the 
head and greater exasperation; on the contrary, a ball strik- 
ing the forehead of a cow is fatal. Several instances occurred 
during this great hunting bout, of bulls fighting furiously after 
having received mortal wounds. Wyeth, also, was witness to 
an instance of the kind while encamped with Indians. Dur- 
ing a grand hunt of the buffalo, one of the Indians pressed a 
bull so closely that the animal turned suddenly on him. His 
horse stopped short, or started back, and threw him. Before 
he could rise the bull rushed furiously upon him, and gored 
him in the chest so that his breath came out at the aperture. 
He was conveyed back to the camp, and his wound was 
dressed. Giving himself up for slain, he called round him 
his friends, and made his will by word of mouth. It was 
something like a death chant, and at the end of every sen- 
tence those around responded in concord. He appeared no 
ways intimidated by the approach of death. " I think," a dels 
Wyeth, ' ' the Indians die better than the white men ; perhaps, 
from having less fear about the future." 

The buffalo may be approached very near, if the hunter 
keeps to the leeward; but they are quick of scent, and will 
take the alarm and move off from a party of hunters to the 
windward, even when two miles distant. 

The vast herds which had poured down into the Bear Eiver 
valley were now snow-bound, and remained in the neighbor- 
hood of the camp throughout the winter. This furnished the 
trappers and their Indian friends a perpetual carnival; so 
that, to slay and eat seemed to be the main occupations of 
the day. It is astonishing what loads of meat it requires to 
cope with the appetite of a hunting camp. 

The ravens and wolves soon came in for their share of the 
good cheer. These constant attendants of the hunter gathered 
in vast numbers as the winter advanced. They might be com- 
pletely out of sight, but at the report of a gun, flights of ravens 
would immediately be seen hovering in the air, no one knew 
whence they came; while the sharp visages of the wolves 
would peep down from the brow of every hill, waiting for the 
hunter's departure to pounce upon the carcass. 

Beside the buffaloes, there were other neighbors snow-bound 



282 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

in the valley, whose presence did not promise to be so advan- 
tageous. This was a band of Eutaw Indians who were en* 
camped higher up on the river. They are a poor tribe that, in 
a scale of the various tribes inhabiting these regions, would 
rank between the Shoshonies and the Shoshokoes or Root Dig- 
gers ; though more bold and warlike than the latter. They 
have but few rifles among them, and are generally armed with 
bows and arrows. 

As this band and the Shoshonies were at deadly feud, on ac- 
count of old grievances, and as neither party stood in awe of 
the other, it was feared some bloody scenes might ensue. Cap- 
tain Bonneville, therefore, undertook the office of pacificator, 
and sent to the Eutaw chiefs, inviting them to a friendly 
smoke, in order to bring about a reconciliation. His invita- 
tion was proudly declined; whereupon he went to them in per- 
son, and succeeded in effecting a suspension of hostilities until 
the chiefs of the two tribes could meet in council. The braves 
of the two rival camps sullenly acquiesced in the arrangement. 
They would take their soats upon the hill tops, and watch their 
quondam enemies hunting the buffalo in the plain below, and 
evidently repine that their hands were tied up from a skir- 
mish. The worthy captain however, succeeded in carrying 
through his benevolent mediation. The chiefs met ; the amica- 
ble pipe was smoked, the hatchet buried, and peace formally 
proclaimed. After this, both camps united and mingled in 
social intercourse. Private quarrels, however, would occa- 
sionally occur in hunting, about the division of the game, and 
blows would sometimes be exchanged over the carcass of a 
buffalo ; but the chiefs wisely took no notice of these individual 
brawls. 

One day the scouts, who had been ranging the hills, brought 
news of several large herds of antelopes in a small valley at no 
great distance. This produced a sensation among the Indians, 
for both tribes were in ragged condition, and sadly in want of 
those shirts made of the skin of the antelope. It was deter- 
mined to have "a surround," as the mode of hunting that ani- 
mal is called. Everything now assumed an air of mystic so- 
lemnity and importance. The chiefs prepared their medicines 
or charms each according to his own method, or fancied inspi- 
ration, generally with the compound of certain simples ; others 
consulted the entrails of animals which they had sacrificed, 
and thence drew favorable auguries. After much grave smok- 
ing and deliberating it was at length proclaimed that all who 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 283 

were able to lift a club, man, woman, or child, should muster 
for " the surround." When ail had congregated, they moved 
in rude procession to the nearest point of the valley in question,, 
and there halted. Another course of smoking and deliberating, 
of which the Indians are so fond, took place among the chiefs. 
Directions were then issued for the horsemen to make a circuit 
of about seven miles, so as to encompass the herd. When this 
was done, the whole mounted force dashed off simultaneously, 
at full speed, shouting and yelling at the top of their voices. 
In a short space of time the antelopes, started from their 
hiding-places, came bounding from all points into the valley. 
The riders, now gradually contracting their circle, brought 
them nearer and nearer to the spot where the senior chief, sur- 
rounded by the elders, male and female, were seated in super- 
vision of the chase. The antelopes, nearly exhausted ' with 
fatigue and fright, and bewildered by perpetual whooping, 
inacle no effort to break through the ring of the hunters, but 
ran round in small circles, until man, woman, and child beat 
them down with bludgeons. Such is the nature of that species 
of antelope hunting, technically called "a surround." 



CHAPTER XLYII. 

A FESTIVE WINTER— CONVERSION OF THE SHOSHONIES— VISIT OF 
TWO FREE TRAPPERS — GA YET Y IN THE CAMP — A TOUCH OF 
THE TENDER PASSION — THE RECLAIMED SQUAW— AN INDIAN FINE 
LADY— AN ELOPEMENT — A PURSUIT— MARKET VALUE OF A BAD 
WIFE. 

Game continued to abound throughout the winter, and the 
eamp was overstocked with provisions. Beef and venison, 
humps and haunches, buffalo tongues and marrow-bones, were 
constantly cooking at every fire ; and the -whole atmosphere 
was redolent with the savory fumes of roast meat. It was, in- 
deed, a continual " feast of fat things, "and though there might 
be a lack of " wine upon the lees," yet we have shown that a 
substitute was occasionally to be found in honey and alcohol. 

Both the Shoshonies and the Eutaws conducted themselves 
with great propriety. It is true, they now and then filched a 
few trifles from their good friends, the Big Hearts, when their 



284 ADVENTUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

backs were turned; but then, they always treated them to 
their faces with the utmost deference and respect, and good- 
humoredly vied with the trappers in all kinds of feats of activ- 
ity and mirthful sports. The two tribes maintained toward 
each other, also, a friendliness of aspect which gave Captain 
Bonneville reason to hope that all past animosity was effectu- 
ally buried. 

The two rival bands, however, had not long been mingled in 
this social manner, before their ancient jealousy began to 
break out in a new form. The senior chief of the Shoshonies 
was a thinking man, and a man of observation. He had been 
among the Nez Perces, listened to their new code of morality 
and religion received from the white men, and attended their 
devotional exercises. He had observed the elf ect of all this, in 
elevating the tribe in the estimation of the white men ; and 
determined, by the same means, to gain for his own tribe a 
superiority over their ignorant rivals, the Eutaws. He accord- 
ingly assembled his people, and promulgated among them the 
mongrel doctrines and form of worship of the Nez Perces; 
recommending the same to their adoption. The Shoshonies 
were struck with the novelty, at least, of the measure, and 
entered into it with spirit. They began to observe Sundays 
and holidays, and to have their devotional dances, and chants, 
and other ceremonials, about which the ignorant Eutaws knew 
nothing ; while they exerted their usual competition in shoot- 
ing and horseracing, and the renowned game of hand. 

Matters were going on thus pleasantly and prosperously, in 
this motley community of white and red men, when, one 
morning, two stark free trappers, arrayed in the height of sav- 
age finery, and mounted on steeds as tine and as fiery as them- 
selvi s, and all jingling with hawks' bells, came galloping, with 
whoop and halloo, into the camp. 

They were fresh from the winter encampment of the Ameri- 
can Fur Company, in the Green Eiver valley ; and had come 
to pay their old comrades of Captain Bonneville's company a 
visit. An idea may be formed from the scenes we have already 
given of conviviality in the wilderness, of the manner in which 
these game birds were received by those of their feather in the 
camp; what feasting, what revelling, what boasting, what 
bragging, what ranting and roaring, and racing and gambling, 
and squabbling and righting, ensued among these boon com- 
panions. Captain Bonneville, it is true, maintained always a 
certain degree of law and order in his camp, and checked each 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 285 

fierce excess ; but the trappers, in their seasons of idleness and 
relaxation require a degree of license and indulgence, to repay 
them for the long privations and almost incredible hardships of 
their periods of active service. 

In the midst of all this feasting and frolicking, a freak of the 
tender passion intervened, and wrought a complete change in 
the scene. Among the Indian beauties in the camp of the 
Eutaws and Shoshonies, the free trappers discovered two, who 
had whilom figured as their squaws. These connections fre- 
quently take place for a season, and sometimes continue for 
years, if not perpetually ; but are apt to be broken when the 
free trapper starts off, suddenly, on some distant and rough 
expedition. 

In the present instance, these wild blades were anxious to 
regain their belles ; nor were the latter loath once more t6 come 
under their protection. The free trapper combines, in the eye 
of an Indian girl, all that is dashing and heroic in a warrior of 
her own race — whose gait, and garb, and bravery he emulates 
— with all that is gallant and glorious in the white man. And 
then the indulgence with which he treats her, the finery in 
which he decks her out, the state hi which she moves, the sway 
she enjoys over both his purse and person; instead of being 
the drudge and slave of an Indian husband, obliged to carry 
his pack, and build his lodge, and make his fire, and bear his 
cross humors and dry blows. No; there is no comparison in 
the eyes of an aspiring belle of the wilderness, between a free 
trapper and an Indian brave. 

With respect to one of the parties the matter was easily ar- 
ranged. The beauty in question was a pert little Eutaw wench, 
that had been taken prisoner, in some war excursion, by a 
Shoshonie. She was readily ransomed for a few articles of 
trifling value ; and forthwith figured about the camp in fine 
array, " with rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes," and 
a tossed-up coquettish air that made her the envy, admiration, 
and abhorrence of all the leathern-dressed, hard-working 
squaws of her acquaintance. 

As to the other beauty, it was quite a different matter. She 
had become the wife of a Shoshonie brave. It is true, he had 
another wife, of older date than the one in question; who, 
therefore, took command in his household, and treated his new 
spouse as a slave; but the latter was the wife of his last fancy, 
his latest caprice ; and was precious in his eyes. All attempt 
to bargain with him, therefore, was useless ; the very proposi- 



286 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

tion was repulsed with anger and disdain. The spirit of tha 
trapper was roused, his pride was piqued as well as his passion. 
He endeavored to prevail upon his quondam mistress to elope 
with him. His horses were fleet, the winter nights were long 
and dark, before daylight they would be beyond the reach of 
pursuit ; and once at the encampment in Green Eiver valley, 
they might set the whole band of Shoshonies at defiance. 

The Indian girl listened and longed. Her heart yearned 
after the ease and splendor of condition of a trapper's bride, 
and throbbed to be freed from the capricious control of the 
premier squaw ; but she dreaded the failure of the plan, and 
the fury of a Shoshonie husband. They parted; the Indian 
girl in tears, and the madcap trapper more mad than ever, 
with his thwarted passion. 

Their interviews had, probably, been detected, and the jeal 
ousy of the Shoshonie brave aroused : a clamor of angry voices 
was heard in his lodge, with the sound of blows, and of female 
weeping and lamenting. At night, as the trapper lay tossing 
on his pallet, a soft voice whispered at the door of his lodge. 
His mistress stood trembling before him. She was ready to 
follow whithersoever he should lead. 

In an instant he was up and out. He had two prime horses, 
sure and swift of foot, and of great wind. With stealthy quiet, 
they were brought up and saddled ; and in a few moments he 
and his prize were careering over the snow, with which the 
whole country was covered. In the eagerness of escape, they 
had made no provision for their journey ; days must elapse be- 
fore they could reach their haven of safety, and mountains 
and prairies be traversed, wrapped in all the desolation of 
winter. For the present, however, they thought of nothing 
but flight ; urging their horses forward over the dreary wastes, 
and fancying, in the howling of every blast, they heard the 
yell of the pursuer. 

At early dawn, the Shoshonie became aware of his loss. 
Mounting his swiftest horse, he set off in hot pursuit. He soon 
found the trail of the fugitives, and spurred on in hopes of 
overtaking them. The winds, however, which swept the val- 
ley, had drifted the light snow into the prints made by the 
horses' hoofs. In a little while he lost all trace of % them, and 
was completely thrown out of the chase. He knew, however, 
the situation of the camp toward which they were bound, and 
a direct course through the mountains, by which he might 
arrive there sooner than the fugitives. Through the most 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 287 

rugged defiles, therefore, he urged his course by day and night, 
scarce pausing until he reached the camp. It was some time 
before the fugitives made their appearance. Six days had 
they been traversing the wintry wilds. They came, haggard 
with hunger and fatigue, and their horses faltering under them. 
The first object that met their eyes on entering the camp was 
the Shoshonie brave, He rushed, knife in hand, to plunge it 
in the heart that had proved false to him. The trapper threw 
himself before the cowering form of his mistress, and, exhaust- 
ed as he was, prepared for a deadly struggle. The Shoshonie 
paused. His habitual awe of the white man checked his arm ; 
the trapper's friends crowded to the spot, and arrested him. 
A parley ensued. A kind of crim. con. adjudication took place ; 
such as frequently occurs in civilized life. A couple of horses 
were declared to be a fair compensation for the loss of a woman 
who had previously lost her heart ; with this, the Shoshonie 
brave was fain to pacify his passion. He returned to Captain 
Bonneville's camp, somewhat crestfallen, it is true ; but parried 
the officious condolements of his friends by observing that two 
good horses were very good pay for one bad wife. 



CHAPTER XL VIII. 

BREAKING UP OF WINTER QUARTERS — MOVE TO GREEN RIVER— 
A TRAPPER AND HIS RIFLE— AN ARRIVAL IN CAMP— A FREE 
TRAPPER AND HIS SQUAW IN DISTRESS — STORY OF A BLACK- 
FOOT BELLE. 

The winter was now breaking up, the snows were melted 
from the hills, and from the lower parte of the mountains, and 
the time for decamping had arrived. Captain Bonneville dis- 
patched a party to the caches, who brought away all the effects 
concealed there, and on the 1st of April (1835), the camp was 
broken up, and every one on the move. The white men and 
their allies, the Eutaws and Shoshonies, parted with many re- 
grets and sincere expressions of good-wiU; for their inter- 
course throughout the winter had been of the most friendly 
kind. 

Captain Bonneville and his party passed by Ham's Fork, 
and reached the Colorado, or Green River, without accident, 



288 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

on the banks of which they remained during the residue of the 
spring. During this time, they were conscious that a band of 
hostile Indians were hovering about their vicinity, watching 
for an opportunity to slay or steal; but the vigilant precau- 
tions of Captain Bonneville baffled all their manoeuvres. In 
such dangerous times, the experienced mountaineer is never 
without his rifle even in camp. On going from lodge to lodge 
to visit his comrades, he takes it with him. On seating him- 
self in a lodge, he lays it beside him, ready to be snatched up ; 
when he goes out, he takes it up as regularly as a citizen would 
his walking-staff. His rifle is his constant friend and protector. 

On the 10th of June, the party were a little to the east of 
the Wind Eiver Mountains, where they halted for a time in 
excellent pasturage, to give their horses a chance to recruit 
their strength for a long journey; for it was Captain Bonne- 
ville's intention to shape his course to the settlements ; having 
already been detained by the complication of his duties, and by 
various losses and impediments, far beyond the time specified 
in his leave of absence. 

While the party was thus reposing in the neighborhood of 
the Wind Eiver Mountains, a solitary free trapper rode one 
day into the camp, and accosted Captain Bonneville. He be- 
longed, he said, to a party of thirty hunters, who had just 
passed through the neighborhood, but whom he had aban- 
doned in consequence of their ill treatment of a brother 
trapper; whom they had cast off from their party, and left 
with his bag and baggage, and an Indian wife into the 
bargain, in the midst of a desolate prairie. The horseman 
gave a piteous account of the situation of this helpless pair, 
and solicited the loan of horses to bring them and their effect* 
to the camp. 

The captain was not a man to refuse assistance to any on© 
in distress, especially when there was a woman in the case; 
horses were immediately dispatched, with an escort, to aid the 
unfortunate couple. The next day they made their appear- 
ance with all their effects ; the man, a stalwart mountaineer, 
with a peculiarly game look ; the woman, a young Blackf oot 
beauty, arrayed in the trappings and trinketry of a free 
trapper's bride. 

Finding the woman to be quick-witted and communicative, 
Captain Bonneville entered into conversation with her, and 
obtained from her many particulars concerning the habits and 
customs of her tribe; especially their wars and huntings. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 289 

They pride themselves upon being the "best legs of the 
mountains," and hunt the buffalo on foot. This is done in 
spring time, when the frosts have thawed and the ground is 
soft. The heavy buffalo then sink over their hoofs at every 
step, and are easily overtaken by the Blackfeet, whose fleet 
steps press lightly on the surface. It is said, however, that 
the buffalo on the Pacific side of the Eocky Mountains are 
fleeter and more active than on the Atlantic side; those upon 
the plains of the Columbia can scarcely be overtaken by a 
horse that would outstrip the same animal in the neighbor- 
hood of the Platte, the usual hunting ground of the Blackfeet. 
In the course of further conversation, Captain Bonneville 
drew from the Indian woman her whole story ; which gave a 
picture of savage life, and of the drudgery and hardships to 
which an Indian wife is subject. 

"I was the wife," said she, "of a Blackfoot warrior, and I 
served him faithfully. Who was so well served as he? 
Whose lodge was so well provided, or kept so clean? I 
brought wood in the morning, and placed water always at 
hand. I watched for his coming; and he found his meat 
cooked and ready. If he rose to go forth, there was nothing 
to delay him. I searched the thought that was in his heart, 
to save him the trouble of speaking. When I went abroad on 
errands for him, the chiefs and warriors smiled upon me, and 
the young braves spoke soft things, in secret; but my feet were 
hi the straight path, and my eyes could see nothing but him. 

"When he went out to hunt, or to war, who aided to equip 
him, but I? When he returned, I met him at the door; I took 
his gun ; and he entered without further thought. While he 
sat and smoked, I unloaded his horses; tied them* to the 
stakes, brought in their loads, and was quickly at his feet. If 
his moccasins were wet I took them off and put on others 
which were dry and warm. I dressed all the skins he had 
taken in the chase. He could never say to me, why is it not 
done? He hunted the deer, the antelope, and the buffalo, and 
he watched for the enemy. Everything else was done by me. 
When our people moved their camp, he mounted his horse 
and rode away ; free as though he had fallen from the skies. 
He had nothing to do with the labor of the camp ; it was I 
that packed the horses and led them on the journey. When 
we halted in the evening, and he sat with the other braves and 
smoked, it was I that pitched his lodge ; and when he came to 
gat and sleep, his supper and his bed were ready. 



290 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

"I served him faithfully; and what was my reward? A 
cloud was always on his brow, and sharp lightning on his 
tongue. I was his dog ; and not his wife. 

" Who was it that scarred and bruised me? It was he. My 
brother saw how I was treated. His heart was big for me. 
He begged me to leave my tyrant and fly. Where could I go? 
If retaken, who would protect me? My brother was not a 
chief; he could not save me from blows and wounds, perhaps 
death. At length I was persuaded. I followed my brother 
from the village. ■ He pointed away to the Nez Perces, and bade 
me go and live in peace among them. We parted. On the third 
day I saw the lodges of the Nez Perces before me. I paused 
for a moment, and had no heart to go on; but my horse 
neighed, and I took it as a good sign, and suffered him to 
gallop forward. In a little while I was in the midst of the 
lodges. As I sat silent on my horse, the people gathered 
round me, and inquired whence I came. I told my story. A 
chief now wrapped his blanket close around him, and bade me 
dismount. I obeyed. He took my horse to lead him away. 
My heart grew small within me. I felt, on parting with my 
horse, as if my last friend was gone. I had no words, and my 
eyes were dry. As he led off my horse a young brave stepped 
forward. 'Are you a chief of the people?' cried he. 'Do we 
listen to you in council, and follow you in battle? Behold! a 
stranger flies to our camp from the dogs of Blackfeet, and asks 
protection. Let shame cover your face! The stranger is a 
woman, and alone. If she were a warrior, or had a warrior 
by her side, your heart would not be big enough to take her 
horse. But he is yours. By the right of war you may claim 
him ; but look ! ' — his bow was drawn, and the arrow ready !— 
'you never shall cross his back ! ' The arrow pierced the heart 
of the horse, and he fell dead. 

" An old woman said she would be my mother. She led me 
to her lodge; my heart was thawed by her kindness, and 
my eyes burst forth with tears ; like the frozen fountains in 
springtime. She never changed; but as the days passed 
away, was still a mother to me. The people were loud in 
praise of the young brave, and the chief was ashamed. I 
lived in peace. 

" A party of trappers came to the village, and one of them 
took me for his wife. This is he I am very happy ; he treats 
me with kindness, and I have taught him the language of my 
people. As we were travelling this way, some of the Black* 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 291 

feet warriors beset us, and carried off the horses of the party. 
We followed, and my husband held a parley with them. The 
guns were laid down, and the pipe was lighted ; but some of 
the white men attempted to seize the horses by force, and 
then a battle began. The snow was deep ; the white men sank 
into it at every step ; but the red men, with their snow-shoes, 
passed over the surface like birds, and drove off many of the 
horses in sight of their owners. With those that remained we 
resumed our journey.* At length words took place between 
the leader of the party and my husband. He took away our 
horses, which had escaped in the battle, and turned us from 
his camp. My husband had one good friend among the 
trappers. That is he (pointing to the man who had asked 
assistance for them). He is a good man. His heart is big. 
When he came in from hunting, and found that we had been 
driven away, he gave up all his wages, and followed us, that 
he might speak good words for us to the white captain." 



CHAPTER XLIX. 

RENDEZVOUS AT WIND RIVER — CAMPAIGN OF MONTERO AND HIS 
BRIGADE IN THE CROW COUNTRY — WARS BETWEEN THE 
CROWS AND BLACKFEET— DEATH OF ARAPOOISH— BLACKFEET 
LURKERS — S AG ACITY OF THE HORSE — DEPENDENCE OF THE 
HUNTER ON HIS HORSE— RETURN TO THE SETTLEMENTS. 

On the 22d of June Captain Bonneville raised his camp, 
and moved to the forks of Wind Eiver ; the appointed place of 
rendezvous. In a few days he was joined there by the 
brigade of Montero, which had been sent, in the preceding 
year, to beat up the Crow country, and afterward proceed to 
the Arkansas. Montero had followed the early part of his 
instructions ; after trapping upon some of the upper streams, 
he proceeded to Powder River. Here he fell in with the Crow 
villages or bancls ; who treated him with unusual kindness, 
and prevailed upon him to take up his winter quarters among 
them. 

The Crows at that time were struggling almost for existence 
with their old enemies, the Blackf eet ; who, in the past year, 
had picked off the flower of their warriors in various engage- 



292 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

merits, and among the rest, Arapooish, the friend of the white 
men. That sagacious and magnanimous chief had beheld, 
with grief, the ravages which war was making in his tribe, 
and that it was declining in force, and must eventually be 
destroyed unless some signal blow could be struck to retrieve 
its fortunes. In a pitched battle of the two tribes, he made a 
speech to his warriors, urging them to set everything at 
hazard in one furious charge ; which done, he led the way into 
the thickest of the foe. He was soon separated from his men, 
and fell covered with wounds, but his self-devotion was not in 
vain. The Blackf eet were defeated ; and from that time the 
Crows plucked up fresh heart, and were frequently successful, 

Montero had not been long encamped among them, when he 
discovered that the Blackf eet were hovering about the neigh- 
borhood. One day the hunters came galloping into the camp, 
and proclaimed that a band of the enemy was at hand. The 
Crows flew to arms, leaped on their horses, and dashed out in 
squadrons in pursuit. They overtook the retreating enemy in 
the midst of a plain. A desperate fight ensued. The Crows 
had the advantage of numbers, and of fighting on horseback. 
The greater part of the Blackf eet were slain ; the remnant took 
shelter in a close thicket of willows, where the horse could not 
enter; whence they plied their bows vigorously. 

The Crows drew off out of bow-shot, and endeavored, by 
taunts and bravadoes, to draw the warriors out of their 
retreat. A few of the best mounted among them rode apart 
from the rest. One of their number then advanced alone, with 
that martial air and equestrian grace for which the tribe is 
noted. When within an arrow's flight of the thicket, he 
loosened his rein, urged his horse to full speed, threw his body 
on the opposite side, so as to hang by but one leg, and present 
no mark to the foe ; in this way he swept along in front of the 
thicket, launching his arrows from under the neck of his 
steed. Then regaining his seat in the saddle, he wheeled 
round and returned whooping and scoffing to his companions, 
who received him with yells of applause. 

Another and another horseman repeated this exploit; but 
the Blackfeet were not to be taunted out of their safe shelter. 
The victors feared to drive desperate men to extremities, so 
they forbore to attempt the thicket. Toward night they gave 
over the attack^ and returned all-glorious with the scalps of 
the slain. Then came on the usual feasts and triumphs ; the 
scalp-dance of warriors round the ghastly trophies, and all 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 293 

the other fierce revelry of barbarous warfare. When the 
braves had finished with the scalps, they were, as usual, given 
up to the women and children, and made the objects of new 
parades and dances. They were then treasured up as invalu- 
able trophies and decorations by the braves who had won 
them. 

It is worthy of note, that the scalp of a white man, either 
through policy or fear, is treated with more charity than that 
of an Indian. The warrior who won it is entitled to his 
triumph if he demands it. In such case, the war party alone 
dance round the scalp. It is then taken down, and the shag- 
ged frontlet of a buffalo substituted in its place, and aban- 
doned to the triumphs and insults of the million. 

To avoid being involved in these guerillas, as well ad to 
escape from the extremely social intercourse of the, Crows, 
which began to be oppressive, Montero moved to the distance 
of several miles from their camps, and there formed a winter 
cantonment of huts. He now maintained a vigilant watch at 
night. Their horses, which were turned loose to graze during 
the day, under heedful eyes, were brought in at night, and 
shut up in strong pens, built of large logs of cotton- wood. 
The snows, during a portion of the winter, were so deep that 
the poor animals could find but little sustenance. Here and 
there a tuft oi grass would peer above the snow; but they 
were in general driven to browse the twigs and tender 
branches of the trees. When they were turned out in the 
morning, the first moments of freedom from the confinement 
of the pen were spent in frisking and gambolling'. This done, 
they went soberly and sadly "to work, to glean their scanty 
subsistence for the day. In the meantime the men stripped 
the bark of the cotton-wood tree for the evening fodder. As 
the poor horses would return toward night, with sluggish and 
dispirited air, the moment they saw their owners approaching 
them with blankets filled with cotton-wood bark, their whole 
demeanor underwent a change. A universal neighing and 
capering took place; they would rush forward, smell to the 
blankets, paw the earth, snort, whinny and prance round 
with head and tail erect, until the blankets were opened, and 
the welcome provender spread before them. These evidences 
of intelligence and gladness were frequently recounted by the 
trappers as proving the sagacity of the animal. 

These veteran "rovers of the mountains look upon their 
horses as in some respects gifted with almost human intellect. 



294 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

An old and experienced trapper, when mounting guard upon 
the camp in dark nights and times of peril, gives heedful 
attention to all the sounds and signs of the horses. No enemy 
enters nor approaches the camp without attracting their 
notice, and their movements not only give a vague alarm, hut 
it is said, will even indicate to the knowing trapper the very 
quarter whence the danger threatens. 

In the daytime, too, while a hunter is engaged on the 
prairie, cutting up the deer or buffalo he has slain, he depends 
upon his faithful horse as a sentinel. The sagacious animal 
sees and smells all round him, and by his starting and whinny- 
ing, gives notice of the approach of strangers. There seems to 
be a dumb communion and fellowship, a sort of fraternal sym- 
pathy between the hunter and his horse. They mutually rely 
upon each other for company and protection ; and nothing is 
more difficult, it is said, than to surprise an experienced hun- 
ter on the prairie, while his old and favorite steed is at his side. 

Montero had not long removed his camp from the vicinity of 
the Crows, and fixed himself in his new quarters, when the 
Blackfeet marauders discovered his cantonment, and began to 
haunt the vicinity. He kept up a vigilant watch, however, 
and foiled every attempt of the enemy, who. at length, seemed 
to have given up in despair, and abandoned the neighborhood. 
The trappers relaxed their vigilance, therefore, and one night, 
after a day of severe labor, no guards were posted, and the 
whole camp was soon asleep. Toward midnight, however, the 
lightest sleepers were roused by the trampling of hoofs ; and, 
giving the alarm, the whole party were immediately on their 
legs and hastened to the pens. The bars were down ; but no 
enemy was to be seen or heard, and the horses being all found 
hard by, it was supposed the bars had been left down through 
negligence. All were once more asleep, when, in about an 
hour there was a second alarm, and it was discovered that 
several horses were missing. The rest were mounted, and so 
spirited a pursuit took place, that eighteen of the number 
carried off were regained, and but three remained in pos- 
session of the enemy. Traps for wolves, had been set about 
the camp the preceding day. In the morning it was dis- 
covered that a Biackfoot was entrapped by one of them, but 
had succeeded in dragging it off. His trail was f ollowed for a 
long distance, which he must have limped alone. At length 
he appeared to have fallen in with some of his comrades, who 
had relieved him from his painful incumbrance. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTATN BONNEVILLE. 295 

These were the leading incidents of Montero's campaign in 
the Crow country. The united parties now celebrated the 4th 
of July, in rough hunters' style, with hearty conviviality; 
after which Captain Bonneville made his final arrangements. 
Leaving Montero with a brigade of trappers to open another 
campaign, he put himself at the head of the residue of his 
men, and set off on his return to civilized life. We shall not 
detail his journey along the course of the Nebraska, and so, 
from point to point of the wilderness, until he and his band 
reached the frontier settlements on the 22& of August. 

Here, according to his own account, his cavalcade mighi 
have been taken for a procession of tatterdemalion savages ; 
for the men were ragged almost to nakedness, and had con- 
tracted a wildness of aspect during three years of wandering 
in the wilderness. A few hours in a populous town, however, 
produced a magical metamorphosis. Hats of the most arnnle 
brim and longest nap ; coats with buttons that shone like mir- 
rors, and pantaloons of the most ample plenitude, took place 
of the well-worn trapper's equipments; and the happy wearers 
might be seen strolling about in all directions, scattering their 
silver like sailors just from a cruise. 

The worthy captain, however, seems by no means to have 
shared the excitement of his men, on finding himself once 
more in the thronged resorts of civilized life, but, on the con- 
trary, to have looked back to the wilderness with regret. 
" Though the prospect," says he, "of once more tasting the 
blessings of peaceful society, and passing days and nights 
under the calm guardianship of the laws, was not without its 
attractions ; yet to those of us whose whole lives had been spent 
in the stirring excitement and perpetual watchfulness 01 hi- 
ventures in the wilderness, the change was far from promising 
an increase of that contentment and inward satisfaction most 
conducive to happiness. He who, like myself, has roved al- 
most from boyhood among the children of the forest, and over 
the un furrowed plains and rugged heights of the western 
wastes, will not be startled to learn, that notwithstanding all 
the fascinations of the world on this civilized side of the moun- 
tains, I would fain make my bow to the splendors and gayeties 
of the metropolis, and plunge again amid the hardships and 
perils of the wilderness." 

We have only to add that the affairs of the captain have 
been satisfactorily arranged with the War Department, and 
that he is actually in service at Fort Gibson, on our western 



296 ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

frontier, where we hope he may meet with further oppor- 
tunities of indulging his peculiar tastes, and of collecting 
graphic and characteristic details of the great western wilds 
and their motley inhabitants. 



We here close our picturings of the Eocky Mountains and 
their wild inhabitants, and of the wild life that prevails there ; 
which we have been anxious to fix on record, because we are 
aware that this singular state of things is full of mutation, 
and must soon undergo great changes, if not entirely pass 
away. The fur trade itself, which has given life to all this 
portraiture, is essentially evanescent. Eival parties of trap- 
pers soon exhaust the streams, especially when competition 
renders them heedless and wasteful of the beaver. The fur- 
bearing animals extinct, a complete change will come over the 
scene; the gay free trapper and his steed, decked out in wild 
array, and tinkling with bells and trinketry ; the savage war 
chief, plumed and painted and ever on the prowl ; the traders' 
cavalcade, winding through defiles or over naked plains, with 
the stealthy war party lurking on its trail ; the buffalo chase, 
the hunting camp, the mad carouse in the midst of danger, 
the night attack, the stampado, the scamper, the fierce skir- 
mish among rocks and cliffs — all this romance of savage life, 
which yet exists among the mountains, will then exist but in 
frontier story, and seem like the fictions of chivalry or fairy 
tale. 

Some new system of things, or rather some new modifica- 
tion, will succeed among the roving people of this vast wilder- 
ness ; but just as opposite, perhaps, to the inhabitants of civili- 
zation. The great Chippewyan chain of mountains, and the 
sandy and volcanic plains which extend on either side, are 
represented as incapable of cultivation. The pasturage which 
prevails there during a certain portion of the year, soon 
withers under the aridity of the atmosphere, and leaves noth- 
ing but dreary wastes. An immense belt of rocky mountains 
and volcanic plains, several hundred miles in width, must ever 
remain an irreclaimable wilderness, intervening between the 
abodes of civilization, and affording a last refuge to the 
Indian. Here roving tribes of hunters, living in tents or 
lodges, and following the migrations of the game, may lead a 
life of savage independence, where there is nothing to tempt 
the cupidity of the white man. The amalgamation of various 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 297 

tribes, and of white men of every nation, will in time produce 
hybrid races like the mountain Tartars of the Caucasus. 
Possessed as they are of immense droves of horses, should 
they continue their present predatory and warlike habits, 
they may in time become a scourge to the civilised frontiers 
on either side of the mountains, as they are at present a ter- 
ror to the traveller and trader. 

The facts disclosed in the present work clearly manifest the 
policy of establishing military posts and a mounted force to 
protect our traders in their journeys across the great western 
wilds, and of pushing the outposts into the very heart of the 
singular wilderness we have laid open, so as to maintain some 
degree of sway over the country, and to put an end to the kind 
of ' ' blackmail, " levied on all occasions by the savage ■ l chivalry 
of the mountains." 



APPENDIX. 



NATHANIEL J. WYETH AND THE TRADE OF THE FAR WEST. 

We have brought Captain Bonneville to the end of his western campaigning; yet 
we cannot close this work without subjoining some particulars concerning the for- 
tunes of his contemporary, Mr. Wyeth ; anecdotes of whose enterprise have, occa* 
sionally, been interwoven in the party-colored web of our narrative. Wyeth 
effected his intention of establishing a trading post on the Portneuf, which he 
named Fort Hall. Here, for the first time, the American flag was unfurled to the 
breeze that sweeps the great naked wastes of the central wilderness. Leaving 
twelve men here, with a stock of goods, to trade with the neighboring tribes, he 
prosecuted his journey to the Columbia, where he established another post, called 
Fort Williams, on Wappatoo Island, at the mouth of the Wallamut. This was to be 
the head factory of his company, whence they were to carry on their fishing and 
trapping operations, and their trade with the interior, and where they were to 
receive and dispatch their annual ship. 

The plan of Mr. Wyeth appears to have been well concerted. He had observed 
that the Rocky Mountain Fur Company, the bands of free trappers, as well as the 
Indians west of the mountains, depended for their supplies upon goods brought 
from St. Louis; which, in consequence of the expenses and risks of a long land car- 
riage, were furnished them at an immense advance on first cost. He had an idea 
that they might be much more cheaply supplied from the Pacific side. Horses 
would cost much less on the borders of the Columbia than at St. Louis; the trans- 
portation by land was much shorter, and through a country much more safe from 
the hostility of savage tribes; which, on the route from and to St. Louis, annually 
cost the lives of many men. On this idea he grounded his plan. He combined the 
salmon fishery with the fur trade. A fortified trading post was to be established 
on the Columbia, to carry on a trade with the natives for salmon and peltries, and 
to fish and trap on their own account. Once a year a ship was to come from the 
United States to bring out goods for the interior trade, and to take home the 
salmon and furs which had been collected. Part of the goods thus brought out 
were to be dispatched to the mountains to supply the trapping companies and the 
Indian tribes, in exchange for their furs, which were to be brought down to the 
Columbia, to be sent home in the next annual ship; and thus an annual round was 
to be kept up. The profits on the salmon, it was expected, would cover all the 
expenses of the ship, so that the goods brought out and the furs carried home 
would cost nothing as to freight. 

His enterprise was prosecuted with a spirit, intelligence, and perseverance that 
merited success. All the details that we have met with prove him to be no ordinary 
man. He appears to have the mind to conceive and the energy to execute exten- 
sive and striking plans. He had once more reared the American flag in the lost 
domains of Astoria; and had he been enabled to maintain the footing he had so 
gallantly effected, he might have regained for his country the opulent trade of the 
Columbia, of which our statesmen have negligently suffered us to be dispossessed. 

It is needless to go into a detail of the variety of accidents and cross-purposes 
which caused the failure of his scheme. They were such as all undertakings of the 
kind, involving combined operations by sea and land, are liable to. What he most 
wanted was sufficient capital to enable him to endure incipient obstacles and 
losses, and to hold on until success had time to spring up from the midst of dis- 
astrous experiments. 



APPENDIX. 299 

It is with extreme regret we learn that he has recently been compelled to dispose 
of his establishment at Wappatoo Island to the Hudson's Bay Company, who, it is 
but justice to say, have, according to his own account, treated him throughout the 
whole of his enterprise with great fairness, friendship, and liberality. That com- 
pany, therefore, still maintains an unrivalled sway over the whole country washed 
by the Columbia and its tributaries. It has, in fact, as far as its chartered powers 
permit, followed out the splendid scheme contemplated by Mr. Astor when he 
founded his establishment at the mouth of the Columbia. From their emporium of 
Vancouver, companies are sent forth in every direction, to supply the interior 
posts, to trade with the natives and to trap upon the various streams. These 
thread the rivers, traverse the plains, penetrate to the heart of the mountains, 
extend their enterprises northward to the Russian possessions, and southward to 
the confines of California. Their yearly supplies are received by sea at Vancouver, 
and thence their furs and peltries are shipped to London. They likewise maintain'- 
a considerable commerce in wheat and lumber with the Pacific islands, and to the 
north with the Russian settlements. 

Though the company, by treaty, have a right to participation only in the trade of 
these regions, and are in fact but tenants on sufferance, yet have they quietly 
availed themselves of the original oversight and subsequent supineness of the 
American government, to establish a monopoly of the trade of the river and its 
iependencies, and are adroitly proceeding to fortify themselves in their usurpa- 
tion, by securing all the strong points of the country. 

Fort George, originally Astoria, which was abandoned on the removal of the 
main factory to Vancouver, was renewed in 1830, and is now kept up as a fortified 
post and trading house. All the places accessible to shipping have been taken pos- 
session of, and posts recently established at them by the company. 

The great capital of this association, their long established system, their heredi- 
tary influence over the Indian tribes, their internal organization, which makes 
everything go on with the regularity of a machine, and the low wages of their 
people, who are mostly Canadians, give them great advantages over the American 
traders; nor is it likely the latter will ever be able to maintain any footing in the 
land until the question of territorial right is adjusted between the two countries. 
The sooner that takes place the better. It is a question too serious to national 
pride, if not to national interest, to be slurred over, and every year is adding to the 
difficulties which environ it. 

The fur trade, which is now the main object of enterprise west of the Rocky 
Moun tains, forms but a part of the real resources of the country. Beside the 
salmon fishery of the Columbia, which is capable of being rendered a considerable 
source of profit, the great valleys of the lower country, below the elevated volcanic 
plateau, are calculated to give sustenance to countless flocks and herds, and to 
sustain a great population of graziers and agriculturists. 

Such, for instance, is the beautiful valley of the Wallamut, from which the estab- 
lishment at Vancouver draws most of its supplies. Here the company holds mills 
and farms, and has provided for some of its superannuated officers and servants. 
This valley, above the falls, is about fifty miles wide, and extends a great distance 
to the south. The climate is mild, being sheltered by lateral ranges of mountains, 
while the soil, for richness, has been equalled to the best of the Missouri lands. 
The valley of the river Des Chutes is also admirably calculated for a great grazing 
country All the best horses used by the company for the mountains are raised 
there. The valley is of such happy temperature that grass grows there throughout 
the year, and cattle may be left out to pasture during the winter. These valleys 
must form the grand points of commencement of the future settlement of the 
country; but there must be many such enfolded in the embraces of these lower 
ranges of mountains which, though at present they lie waste and uninhabited, and 
to the eye of the trader and trapper present but barren wastes, would, in the hands 
of skilful agriculturists and husbandmen, soon assume a different aspect, and teem 
with waving crops or be covered with flocks and herds. 



300 APPENDIX. 

The resources of the country, too, while in the hands of a company restricted in 
Its trade, can be but partially called forth, but in the hands of Americans, enjoying 
a direct trade with the East Indies,. would be brought into quickening activity, and 
might soon realize the dream of Mr. Astor, in giving rise to a flourishing commer- 
cial empire. 

WRECK OF A JAPANESE JUNK ON THE NORTHWEST COAST. 

The following extract of a letter which we received lately from Mr. Wyeth may 
be interesting as throwing some light upon the question as to the manner in which 
America has been peopled: 

'"Are you aware of the tact that in the winter cf 1833 a Japanese junk was 
wrecked on the northwest coast, in the neighborhood of Queen Charlotte's Island, 
qand that all but two of the crew, then much reduced by starvation and disease, dur- 
ing a long drift across the Pacific, were killed by the natives? The two fell into the 
hands of the Hudson's Bay Company, and were sent to England. I saw them, on 
my arrival at Vancouver, in 1834." 



INSTRUCTIONS TO CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE FROM THE MAJOR-GENERAL 
COMMANDING THE ARMY OF THE UNITED STATES. 

Head-Quarters op the Army, \ 
Washington, August 3, 1831. f 

Sir: The leave of absence which you have asked, for the purpose of enabling you 
to carry into execution your design of exploring the country to the Rocky Moun- 
tains and beyond, with a view of ascertaining the nature and character of the 
several tribes of Indians inhabiting those regions; the trade which might be profi- 
tably carried on with them; the quality of the soil, the productions, the minerals, 
the natural history, the climate, the geography and topography, as well as geology, 
of the various parts of the country within the limits of the territories belonging to 
the United States, between our frontier and the Pacific— has been duly considered 
and submitted to the War Department for approval, and has been sanctioned. 
You are. therefore, authorized to be absent from the army until October, 1833. It 
is understood that the government is to be at no expense in reference to your pro- 
posed expedition, it having originated with yourself; and all that you required was 
the permission from the proper authority to undertake ihe enterprise. You will, 
naturally, in preparing yourself for the expedition, provide suitable instruments, 
and especially the best maps of the interior to be found. 

It is desirable, besides what is enumerated as the object of your enterprise, that 
you note particularly the number of warriors that may be in each tribe or nation 
that you may meet with; their alliances with other tribes, and their relative position 
as to a state of peace or war, and whether their friendly or warlike dispositions 
toward each other are recent or of long standing. You will gratify us by describ- 
ing their manner of making war; of the mode of subsisting themselves during a 
state of war, and a state of peace; their arms, and the effect of them; whether they 
act on foot or on horseback; detailing the discipline and manoeuvres of the war 
parties; the power of their horses, size, and general description; in short, every 
information which you may conceive would be useful to the government. 

You will avail yourself of every opportunity of informing us of your position and 
progress, and, at the expiration of your leave of absence, will join your proper 
station. I have the honor to be, sir, 

Your ob't servant, 

Alexander Macomb, 
Major-General, commanding the Army, 

Capt. B. L. E. Bonneville, 

7th RegH of Infantry, New York. 






SALMAGUNDI. 



BY 



WASHINGTON IRVING. 

u 



In hoc est hoax, cum quiz et jokesez, 
Et smoken, toastem, roastem folksez, 

Fee, faw, funi. Paalmanazar. 

With baked, and broiled, and stewed and toasted: 
And fried, and broiled, and smoked, and roasted, 
We treat the town. 



££- 



SALMAGUNDI. 



CONTENTS. 



VOLUME I. 

NO. ;PAGE 

I. Saturday, January 24, 1807 : 5 

Publisher's Notice. Shakespeare Gallery, New York 6 

From the Elbow-Chair of Launcelot Langstaff, Esq 7 

Theatrics— Containing the Quintessence of Modem Criticism. By William 

Wizard, Esq 12 

New York Assembly. By Anthony Evergreen, Gent 14 

II. Wednesday, February 4, 1807.— From the Elbow-Chair of Launcelot Lang- 

staff, Esq ! 18 

Mr. Wilson's Concert. By Anthony Evergreen, Gent 22 

Cockloft Family 24 

To Launcelot Langstaff, Esq „ 27 

Advertisement 29 

III. Friday, February 13, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 31 

Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Kahn, Captain of a Ketch, to Asem 
Hacchem, Principal Slave-Driver to his Highness, the Bashaw of 

Tripoli 33 

Fashions. By Anthony Evergreen, Gent 36 

Proclamation from the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq 41 

IV. Tuesday, February 24, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 44 

Memorandums for a Tour to be entitled, "The Stranger in New Jersey; 

or, Cockney Travelling." By Jeremy Cockloft, the Younger 46 

V. Saturday, March 7, 1807. — From my Elbow-Chair 51 

Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan to Abdallah Eb'n Al Rahab, 
sur named the Snorer, Military Sentinel at the Gate of his Highness's 

Palace 51 

By Anthony Evergreen,. Gent 59 

To the Ladies. From the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq 63 

VI Friday, March 20, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 66 

Theatrics. By William Wizard, Esq 74 

VII. Saturday, April 4, 1807. — Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan, to 

Asem Hacchem, Principal Slave-Driver to his Highness, the Bashaw 

of Tripoli 80 

From the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. Notes by William Wizard, Esq ... 87 

VIII. Saturday, April 18, 1807.— By Anthony Evergreen, Gent , 91 

On Style. By William Wizard, Esq 97 

To Correspondents 102 



4 CONTENTS. 

NO. PAGB 

IX. Saturday, April 25, 1807.— From my Elbow- Chair 105 

From my Elbow-Chair 110 

Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan, Captain of a Ketch, to Asem 
Hacchem, Principal Slave-Driver to his Highness, the Bashaw of 

Tripoli HI 

From the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq 117 

X. Saturday, May 16, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 122 

To Launcelot Langstaff, Esq 123 

VOLUME II. 

Note ' 129 

XI. Tuesday, June 2, 1807.— Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan, Cap- 

tain of a Ketch, to Asem Hacchem, Principal Slave-Driver to his High- 
ness, the Bashaw of Tripoli 131 

From my Elbow-Chair. Mine Uncle John 138 

XH. Saturday, June 27, 1507.— From my Elbow-Chair 144 

The Stranger at Home; or, A Tour in Broadway. By Jeremy Cockloft, 

the Younger 150 

From my Elbow-Chair 156 

From the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq 157 

XIH. Friday, August 14, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 161 

Plans for Defending our Harbor. By William Wizard, Esq 164 

From my Elbow Chair. A Retrospect; or, " What you Will " 169 

To Readers and Correspondents 177 

XXV. Saturday, September 16, 1807.— Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli 
Khan to Asem Hacchem, Principal Slave-Driver to his Highness, the 

Bashaw of Tripoli 179 

Cockloft Hall. By Launcelot Langstaff, Esq 186 

Theatrical Intelligence. By William Wizard, Esq 193 

XV. Thursday, October 1, 1807.— Sketches from Nature. By Anthony Ever- 

green, Gent 197 

On Greatness. By Launcelot Langstaff, Esq 202 

XVI. Thursday, October 15, 1807.— Style at Ballston. By William Wizard, Esq. 209 
Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan, to Asem Hacchem, Princi-. 

pal Slave-Driver to his Highness, the Bashaw of Tripoli — 214 

XVII. Wednesday, November 11, 1807. — Autumnal Reflections. By Launcelot 

Langstaff, Esq 221 

By Launcelot Langstaff, Esq 225 

Chap. CIX.— Of the Chronicles of the Renowned and Ancient City of 

Gotham 228 

XVIII. Tuesday, November 24, 1807.— The Little Man in Black. By Launcelot 

Langstaff, Esq 234 

Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan, to Asem Hacchem, Principal 
Slave-Driver to his Highness, the Bashaw of Tripoli 240 

XIX. Thursday, December 31, 1807.— From my Elbow-Chair 246 

Letter from Mustapha Rub-A-Dub Keli Khan to Muley Helim al Raggi, 

surnamed the Agreeable Ragamuffin, chief Mounte-bank and Buffa- 

dancer to his Highness 247 

By Anthony Evergreen, Gent 254 

Tea: A Poem 259 

XX. Monday, January 25. 1808. -From my Elbow Chair 262 

To the Ladies. By Anthony Evergreen, Gent 269 

Farewell 274 



SALMAGUNDI 



VOLUME FIRST 



NO. 1 -SATURDAY, JANUARY 24, 1807. 

As every body knows, or ought to know, what a Salmagundi 
is, we shall spare ourselves the trouble of an explanation— be- 
sides, we despise trouble as we do every thing that is low and 
mean ; and hold the man who would incur it unnecessarily, as 
an object worthy our highest pity and contempt. Neither will 
we puzzle our heads to give an account of ourselves, for two 
reasons; first, because it is nobody's business; secondly, be- 
cause if it were, we do not hold ourselves bound to attend to 
any body's business but our own ; and even that we take the 
liberty of neglecting when it suits our inclination. To these 
we might add a third, that very few men can give a tolerable 
account of themselves, let them try ever so hard ; but this rea- 
son, w^e candidly avow, would not hold good with ourselves. 

There are, however, two or three pieces of information which 
we bestow gratis on the public, chiefly because it suits our own 
pleasure and convenience that they should be known, and 
partly because we do not wish that there should be any ill will 
between us at the commencement of our acquaintance. 

Our intention is simply to instruct the young, reform the old, 
correct the town, and castigate the age; this is an arduous 
task, and, therefore, we undertake it with confidence. We in- 
tend for this purpose to present a striking picture of the town; 
and as every body is anxious to see his own phiz on canvas, 
however stupid or ugly it may be, we have no doubt but the 
whole town will flock to our exhibition. Oar picture will 
necessarily include a vast variety of figures : and should any 
gentleman or lady be displeased with the inveterate truth of 



6 SALMAGUNDI. 

their likenesses, they may ease their spleen by laughing at 
those of their neighbours— this being what we understand by 

POETICAL JUSTICE. 

Like all true and able editors, we consider ourselves infalli- 
ble, and, therefore, with the customary diffidence of our breth- 
ren of the quill, we shall take the liberty of interfering in all 
matters either of a public or private nature. We are critics, 
amateurs, dilettanti, and cognoscenti; and as we know "by 
the pricking of our thumbs," that every opinion which we may 
advance in either of those characters will be correct, we are 
determined, though it may be questioned, contradicted, or even 
controverted, yet it shall never be revoked. 

We beg the public particularly to understand that we solicit 
no patronage. We are determined, on the contrary, that the 
patronage shall be entirely on our side. We have nothing to 
do with the pecuniary concerns of the paper ; its success will 
yield us neither pride nor profit — nor will its failure occasion 
to us either loss or mortification. We advise the public, there- 
fore, to purchase our numbers merely for their own sakes:— if 
they do not, let them settle the affair with their consciences 
and posterity. 

To conclude, we invite all editors of newspapers and literary 
journals to praise us heartily in advance, as we assure them 
that we intend to deserve their praises. To our next-door 
neighbour " Town," we hold out a hand of amity, declaring to 
him that, after ours, his paper will stand the best chance for 
immortality. We proffer an exchange of civilities; he shall 
furnish us with notices of epic poems and tobacco : — and we in 
return will enrich him with original speculations on all manner 
of subjects; together with "the rummaging of my grandfath- 
er's mahogany chest of drawers," "the life and amours of 
mine uncle John," "anecdotes of the Cockloft family," and 
learned quotations from that unheard-of writer of folios, 
IAnlmm Fidelias, 



PUBLISHER'S NOTICE. 

This work will be published and sold by D. Longworth. It 
will be printed on hot prest vellum paper, as that is held in 
highest estimation for buckling up young ladies' hair— a pur- 
pose to which similar works are_ usually appropriated ; it will 



SALMAGUNDI. f 

be a small, neat duodecimo size, so that when enough numbers 
are written, it may form a volume sufficiently portable to be 
carried in old ladies' pockets and young ladies' work-bags. 

As the above work will not come out at stated periods, notice 
will be given when another number will be published. The 
price w^ill depend on the size of the number, and must be paid 
on delivery. The publisher professes the same sublime con- 
tempt for money as his authors. The liberal patronage be- 
stowed by his discerning fellow-citizens on various works of 
taste which he has published, has left him no inclination to 
ask for further favours at their hands ; and be publishes this 
work in the mere hope of requiting their bounty.* 



FEOM THE ELBOW-CHAIR OF LAUNCELOT LANG- 
STAFF, ESQ. 

We were a considerable time in deciding whether we should 
be at the- pains of introducing ourselves to the public. As we 
care for nobody, and as we are not yet at the bar, we do not 
feel bound to hold up our hands and answer to our names. 

Willing, however, to gain at once that frank, confidential 
footing, which we are certain of ultimately possessing in this, 
doubtless, "best of all possible cities;" and, anxious to spare its 
worthy inhabitants the trouble of making a thousand wise 
conjectures, not one of which would be worth a "tobacco- 
stopper," we have thought it in some degree a necessary exer- 
tion of charitable condescension to furnish them with a slight 
clue to the truth. 

Before we proceed further, however, we advise every body, 
man, woman, and child, that can read, or get any friend to 
read for them, to purchase this paper : — not that we write for 
money ; — for, in common with all philosophical wiseacres, from 
Solomon downwards, we hold it in supreme contempt. The 
public are welcome to buy this work, or not, just as they 
choose. If it be purchased freely, so much the better for the 
public— and the publisher:— we gain not a stiver. If it be not 



* It was not originally the intention of the authors to insert the above address in 
the work; but, unwilling that a morceau so precious should be lost to posterity, 
they have been induced to alter their minds. This will account for any repetition 
of idea that may appear in the introductory essay. 



8 SALMAGUNDI. 

purchased we give fair warning— we shall burn all our essays, 
critiques, and epigrams, in one promiscuous blaze; and, like 
the books of the sybils, and the Alexandrian library, they will 
be lost for ever to posterity. For the sake, therefore, of our 
publisher, for the sake of the public, and for the sake of the 
public's children, to the nineteenth generation, we advise them 
to purchase our paper. We beg the respectable old matrons 
of this city, not to be alarmed at the appearance we make ; we 
are none of those outlandish geniuses who swarm in New- 
York, who live by their wits, or rather by the little wit of 
their neighbours ; and who spoil the genuine honest American 
tastes of their daughters, with French slops and fricasseed 
sentiment. 

We have said we do not write for money ; — neither do we 
write for fame:— we know too well the variable nature of pub- 
lic opinion to build our hopes upon it— we care not what the 
public think of us ; and we suspect, before we reach the tenth 
number, they will not Imow what to . think of us. In two 
words— we write for no other earthly purpose but to please 
ourselves— and this we shall be sure of doing; for we. are all 
three of us determined beforehand to be pleased with what we 
write. If, in the course of this work, we edify and instruct 
and amuse the public, so much the better for the public : — but 
we frankly acknowledge that so soon as we get tired of read- 
ing our own works, we shall discontinue them without the 
least remorse; whatever the public may think of it. — While 
we continue to go on, we will go on merrily: — if we moralize, 
it shall be but seldom ; and, on all occasions, we shall be more 
solicitous to make our readers laugh than cry; for we are 
laughing philosophers, and clearly of opinion, that wisdom, 
true wisdom, is a plump, jolly dame, who sits in her arm- 
chair, laughs right merrily at the farce of life — and takes the 
world as it goes. 

We intend particularly to notice the conduct, of the fashion- 
able world : nor in this shall we be governed by that carping 
spirit with which narrow-minded book-worm cynics squint at 
the little extravagances of the ton ; but with that liberal tolera- 
tion which actuates every man of fashion. While we keep 
more than a Cerberus watch over the guardian rules of female 
delicacy and decorum— we shall not discourage any little 
sprightliness of demeanour, or innocent vivacity of character. 
Before we advance one line further we must let it be under- 
stood, as our firm opinion, void of all prejudice or partiality, 



SALMAGUNDI. 9 

that the ladies of New-York are the fairest, the finest, the 
most accomplished, the most bewitching, the most ineffable 
beings, that walk, creep, crawl, swim, fly, float, or vegetate in 
any or all of the four elements ; and that they only want to be 
cured of certain whims, eccentricities, and unseemly conceits, 
by our superintending cares, to render them absolutely per- 
fect. They will, therefore, receive a large portion of those at- 
tentions directed to the fashionable world ; — nor will the gentle- 
men, who doze away their time in the circles of the haut-ton, 
.escape our currying. We mean those stupid fellows who sit 
stock still upon their chairs, without saying a word, and then 

complain how damned stupid it was at Miss 's party. 

This department will be under the peculiar direction and 
control of Anthony Evergreen, gent., to whom all communi- 
cations on this subject are to be addressed. This gentleman, 
•£rom his long experience in the routine of balls, tea-parties, 
and assemblies, is eminently qualified for the task he has 
undertaken. He is a kind of patriarch in the fashionable 
world; and has seen generation after generation pass away 
into the silent tomb of matrimony while he remains unchange- 
ably the same. He can recount the amours and courtships of 
the fathers, mothers, uncles and aunts, and even the gran- 
dames, of all the belles of the present day; provided their 
pedigrees extend so far back without being lost in obscurity. 
As, however, treating of pedigrees is rather an ungrateful task 
in this city, and as we mean to be perfectly good-natured, he 
has promised to be cautious in this particular. He recollects 
perfectly the time when young ladies used, to go sleigh-riding 
at night, without their mammas or grandmammas ; in short, 
without being matronized at all: and can relate a thousand 
pleasant stories about Kissing-bridge. He likewise remembers 
the time when ladies paid tea- visits at three in the afternoon, 
and returned before dark to see that the house was shut up 
and the servants on duty. He has often played cricket in the * 
orchard in the rear of old Vauxhall, and remembers when the 
BulTs-head was quite out of town. Though he has slowly and 
gradually given into modern fashions, and still flourishes in 
the beau-monde, yet he seems a little prejudiced in favor of the 
dress and manners of the old school ; and his chief commenda- 
tion of a new mode is "that it is the same good old fashion we 
had before the war." It has cost us much trouble to make 
him confess that a cotillion is superior to a minuet, or an un- 
adorned crop to a pigtail and powder. Custom and fashion 



10 SALMAGUNDI. 

have, however, had more effect on him than all our lectures; 
and he tempers, so happily, the grave and ceremonious gallan- 
try of the old school with the " hail fellow" familiarity of the 
new, that, we trust, on a little acquaintance, and making 
allowance for his old-fashioned prejudices, he will become a 
very considerable favourite with our readers;— if not, the 
worse for themselves ; as they will have to endure his com- 
pany. 

In the territory of criticism, William Wizard, Esq., has 
undertaken to preside ; and though we may all dabble in it a 
little by turns, yet we have willingly ceded to him all discre- 
tionary powers in this respect, though Will has not had the 
advantage of an education at Oxford or Cambridge, or even at 
Edinburgh, or Aberdeen, and though he is but little versed in 
Hebrew, yet we have no doubt he will be found fully competent 
to the undertaking. He has improved his taste by a long resi- 
dence abroad, particularly at Canton, Calcutta, and the gay 
and polished court of Hayti. He has also had an opportunity 
of seeing the best singing-girls and tragedians of China, is a 
great connoisseur in mandarine dresses, and porcelain, and 
particularly values himself on his intimate knowledge of the 
buffalo, and war dances of the northern Indians. He is like- 
wise promised the assistance of a gentleman, lately from 
London, who was born and bred in that centre of science and 
bongout, the vicinity of Fleetmarket, where he has been edified, 
man and boy, these six-and-twenty years, with the harmonious 
jingle of Bow-bells. His taste, therefore, has attained to such 
an exquisite pitch of refinement that there are few exhibitions 
of any kind which do not put him in a fever. He has assured 
Will, that if Mr. Cooper emphasises "and" instead of "but" — 
or Mrs. Oldmixon pins her kerchief a hair's breadth awry — or 
Mrs. Darley offers to dare to look less than the "daughter of a 
senator of Venice"— the standard of a senator's daughter being 
exactly six feet — they shall all hear of it in good time. ' We 
have, however, advised Will Wizard to keep his friend in check, 
lest by opening the eyes of the public to the wretchedness of 
the actors by whom they have hitherto been entertained, he 
might cut off one source of amusement from our fellow-citizens. 
We hereby give notice, that we have taken the whole corps, 
from the manager in his mantle of gorgeous copper-lace, to 
honest John in his green coat and black breeches, under our 
wing — and wo be unto him who injures a hair of their heads. 
As we have no design against the patience of our fellow-citizens, 



SALMAGUNDI. H 

we shall not dose them with copious draughts of theatrical 
criticism; we well know that they have already been well 
physicked with them of late ; our theatrics shall take up but a 
small part of our paper ; nor shall they be altogether confined 
to the stage, but extend from time to time, to those incorrigible 
offenders against the peace of society, the stage-critics, who not 
unf requently create the fault they find, in order to yield an 
opening for their witticisms — censure an actor for a gesture he 
never made, or an emphasis he never gave ; and, in their at- 
tempt to show off new readings, make the sweet swan of Avon 
cackle like a goose. If any one should feel himself offended by 
our remarks, let him attack us in return — we shall not wince 
from the combat. If his passes be successful, we will be the 
first to cry out, a hit ! a hit ! and we doubt not we shall fre- 
quently lay ourselves open to the weapons of our assailants. 
But let them have a care how they run a tilting with us— they 
have to deal with stubborn foes, who can bear a world of pum- 
meling ; we will be relentless in our vengeance, and will fight 
"till from our bones the flesh be hackt." 

What other subjects we shall include in the range of our ob- 
servations, we have not determined, or rather we shall not 
trouble ourselves to detail. The public have already more in- 
formation concerning us, than we intended to impart. We 
owe them no favours, neither do we ask any* We again advise 
them, for their own sakes, to read our papers when they come 
out. We recommend to all mothers to purchase them for their 
daughters, who will be taught the true line of propriety, and 
the most advisable method of managing their beaux. We ad- 
vise all daughters to purchase them for the sake of their 
mothers, who shall be initiated into the arcana of the bon ton, 
and cured of all those rusty old notions which they acquired 
during the last century : parents shall be taught how to govern 
their children, girls how to get husbands, and old maids how to 
do without them. 

As we do not measure our wits by the yard or the bushel, 
and as they do not flow periodically nor constantly, we shall 
not restrict our paper as to size or the time of its a/ppearance. 
It will be published whenever we have sufficient matter to con- 
stitute a number, and the size of the number shall depend on 
the stock in hand. This will best suit our negligent habits, 
and leave us that full liberty and independence which is the 
joy and pride of our souls. As we have before hinted, that we 
do not concern ourselves about the pecuniary matters of our 



12 SALMAGUNDI. 

paper, we leave its price to be regulated by our publisher, 
only recommending him for his own interest, and the honour 
of his authors, not to sell their invaluable productions too 
cheap. 

Is there any one who wishes to know more about us? — let 
him read Salmagundi, and grow wise apace. Thus much we 
will say — there are three of us, "Bardolph, Peto, and I," all 
townsmen good and true ; — many a time and oft have we three 
amused the town without its knowing to whom it was indebted ; 
and many a time have we seen the midnight lamp twinkle 
faintly on our studious phizes, and heard the morning saluta- 
tion of ' ' past three o'clock, " before we sought our pillows. The 
result of these midnight studies is now offered to the public ; 
and little as we care for the opinion of this exceedingly stupid 
world, we shall take care, as far as lies in our careless natures, 
to fulfil the promises made in this introduction ; if we do not, 
we shall have so many examples to justify us, that we feel 
little solicitude on that account. 



THEATRICS. 

4 

CONTAINING THE QUINTESSENCE OF MODERN CRITICISM. BY 
WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

Macbeth was performed to a very crowded house, and much 
to our satisfaction. As, however, our neighbor Town has been 
very voluminous already in his criticisms on this play, we 
shall make but few remarks. Having never seen Kemble in 
this character, we are absolutely at a loss to say whether Mr, 
Cooper performed it well or not. We think, however, there 
was an error in his costume, as the learned Linkum Fidelius is 
of opinion, that in the time of Macbeth the Scots did not wear 
sandals, but wooden shoes. Macbeth also was noted for wear- 
ing his jacket open, that he might play the Scotch fiddle more 
conveniently ; — that being an hereditary accomplishment in the 
Glamis family. 

We have seen this character performed in China by the cele- 
brated Choiv-Chow, the Eoscius of that great empire, who in 
the dagger scene always electrified the audience by blowing his 
nose like a trumpet. Chow-Chow, in compliance with the 



SALMAGUNDI. 13 

opinion of the sage Linkum Fidelius, performed Macbeth in 
wooden shoes; this gave him an opportunity of producing 
great effect, for on first seeing the "air-drawn dagger,' 7 he 
always cut a prodigious high caper, and kicked his shoes into 
the pit at the heads of the critics; whereupon the audience 
were marvellously delighted, flourished their hands, and 
stroked their whiskers three times, and the matter was care- 
fully recorded in the next number of a paper called the flim 
flam. (English— town.) 

We were much pleased with Mrs. Yilliers in Lady Mac- 
beth ; but we think she would have given a greater effect to the 
night-scene, if, instead of holding the candle in her hand or 
setting it down on the table, which is sagaciously censured by 
neighbour Town, she had stuck it in her night-cap. This 
would have been extremely picturesque, and would have 
marked more strongly the derangement of her mind. 

Mrs. Yilliers, however, is not by any means large enough 
for the character ; Lady Macbeth having been, in our opinion, 
a woman of extraordinary size, and of the race of the giants, 
notwithstanding what she says of her "little hand" — which 
being said in her sleep, passes for nothing. We should be 
happy to see this character in the hands of the lady who 
played Glumdalca, queen of the giants, in Tom Thumb ; she is 
exactly of imperial dimensions; and, provided she is well 
shaved, of a most interesting physiognomy ; as she appears like- 
wise to be a lady of some nerve, I dare engage she will read a 
letter about witches vanishing in air, and such common occur- 
rences, without being unnaturally surprised, to the annoyance 
of honest "Town." 

We are happy to observe that Mr. Cooper profits by the in- 
structions of friend Town, and does not dip the daggers in 
blood so deep as formerly by a matter of an inch or two. This 
was a violent outrage upon our immortal bard. We differ 
with Mr. Town in his reading of the words, ' ' this is a sorry 
sight." We are of opinion the force of the sentence should be 
thrown on the word sight, because Macbeth, having been 
shortly before most confoundedly humbugged with an aerial 
dagger, was in doubt whether the daggers actually in his 
hands were real, or whether they 'were not mere shadows, or 
as the old English may have termed it, syghtes ; (this, at any 
rate, will establish our skill in neic readings.) Though we 
differ in this respect from our neighbour Town, yet we heart- 
ily agree with him in censuring Mr. Cooper for omitting that 



14 SALMAGUNDI. 

passage so remarkable for " beauty of imagery," &c., begin- 
ning with " and pity, like a naked, new-born babe," &c. It is 
one of those passages of Shakspeare which should always be 
retained, for the purpose of showing how sometimes that 
great poet could talk like a buzzard; or, to speak more plainly, 
like the famous mad poet Nat Lee. 

As it is the first duty of a friend to advise — and as we pro- 
fess and do actually feel a friendship for honest " Town"— we 
warn him, never in his criticisms to meddle with a lady's 
"petticoats," or to quote Nic Bottom. In the first instance he 
may " catch a tartar;" and in the second, the ass's head may 
rise up in judgment against him ; and when it is once afloat 
there is no knowing where some unlucky hand may place it. 
We would not, for all the money in our pockets, see Town 
flourishing his critical quill under the auspices of an ass's head, 
like the great Franklin in his Monterio Cap. 



NEW- YORK ASSEMBLY. 

BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

The assemblies this year have gained a great accession of 
beauty. Several brilliant stars have arisen from the east and 
from the north to brighten the firmament of fashion ; among 
the number I have discovered another planet, which rivals 
even Venus in lustre, and I claim equal honour with Herschel 
for my discovery. I shall take some future opportunity to 
describe this planet, and the numerous satellites which revolve 
around it. 

At the last assembly the company began to make some show 
about eight, but the most fashionable delayed their appearance 
until about nine— nine being the number of the muses, and 
therefore the best possible hour for beginning to exhibit the 
graces. (This is meant for a pretty play upon words, and I 
assure my readers that I think it very tolerable.) 

Poor Will Honeycomb, whose memory I hold in special 
consideration, even with his half century of experience, would 
have been puzzled to point out the humours of a lady by her 
prevailing colours; for the " rival queens" of fashion, Mrs. 
Toole and Madame Bouchard, appeared to have exhausted 



SALMAGUNDI. 15 

their wonderful inventions in the different disposition, varia- 
tion, and combination of tints and shades. The philosopher 
who maintained that black was white, and that of course there 
was no such colour as white, might have given some colour to 
his theory on this occasion, by the absence of poor forsaken 
white muslin. I was, however, much pleased to see that red 
maintains its ground against all other colours, because red is 
the colour of Mr. Jefferson's * * * * * * Tom Paine's nose, 
and my slippers. 

Let the grumbling smellfungi of this world, who cultivate 
taste among books, cobwebs, and spiders, rail at the extrava- 
gance of the age ; for my part, I was delighted with the magic 
of the scene, and as the ladies tripped through the mazes of 
the dance, sparkling and glowing and dazzling, I, like the hon- 
est Chinese, thanked them heartily for the jewels and finery 
with which they loaded themselves, merely for the entertain- 
ment of by-standers, and blessed my stars that I was a 
bachelor. 

The gentlemen were considerably numerous, and being as 
usual equipt in their appropriate black uniforms, constituted 
a sable regiment which contributed not a little to the brilliant 
gayety of the ball-room. I must confess I am indebted for 
this remark to our friend, the cockney, Mr. 'Sbidlikensflash, 
or ' Sbidlikens, as he is called for shortness. He is a fellow of 
infinite verbosity — stands in high favour— with himself— and, 
like Caleb Quotem, is " up to every thing." I remember when 
a comfortable, plumb-looking citizen led into the room a fair 
damsel, who looked for all the world like the personification 
of a rainbow : 'Sbidlikens observed that it reminded him of a 
fable, which he had read somewhere, of the marriage of an 
honest, painstaking snail ; who had once walked six feet in an 
hour for a wager, to a butterfly whom he used to gallant by 
the elbow, with the aid of much puffing and exertion. On 
being called upon to tell where he had come across this story, 
'Sbidlikens absolutely refused to answer. 

It would but be repeating an old story to say, that the ladies 
of New-York dance well ; — and well may they, since they learn 
it scientifically, and begin their lessons before they have quit 
their swaddling clothes. The immortal Duport has usurped 
despotic sway over all the female heads and heels in this city , 
—hornbooks, primers, and pianos are neglected to attend to 
his positions ; and poor Chilton, with his pots and kettles and 
chemical crockery, finds him a more potent enemy than the 



16 SALMAGUNDI. 

whole collective force of the " North River Society." 'Sbid- 
likens insists that this dancing mania will inevitably continue 
as long as a dancing-master will charge the fashionable price 
of five-and-twenty dollars a quarter and all the other accom- 
plishments are so vulgar as to be attainable at "half the 
money;"— but I put no faith in 'SbidHkens' candour in this 
particular. Among his infinitude of endowments he is but a 
poor proficient in dancing; and though he often flounders 
through a cotillion, yet he never cut a pigeon-wing in his life. 

In my mind there's no position more positive and unexcep- 
tionable than that most Frenchmen, dead or alive, are born 
dancers. I came pounce upon this discovery at the assembly, 
and I hiimediately noted it down in my register of indisputable 
facts : — the public shall know all about it. As I never dance 
cotillions, holding them to be monstrous distorters of the 
human frame, and tantamount in their operations to being 
broken and dislocated on the wheel, I generally take occasion, 
while they are going on, to make my remarks on the company. 
In the course of these observations I was struck with the ener- 
gy and eloquence of sundry limbs, which seemed to be flourish- 
ing about without appertaining to any body. After much in- 
vestigation and difficulty, I at length traced them to their re- 
spective owners, whom I found to be all Frenchmen to a man. 
Art may have meddled somewhat in these affairs, but nature 
certainly did more. I have since been considerably employed 
in calculations on this subject; and by the most accurate com- 
putation I have determined that a Frenchman passes at least 
three-fifths of his time between the heavens and the earth, and 
partakes eminently of the nature of a gossamer or soap-bubble. 
One of these jack-o'-lantern heroes, in taking a figure which 
neither Euclid or Pythagoras himself could demonstrate, unfor- 
tunately wound himself — I mean his feet, his better part— into a 
lady's cobweb muslin robe ; but perceiving it at the instant, he 
set himself a spinning the other way, like a top, unravelled his 
step without omitting one angle or curve, and extricated him- 
self without breaking a thread of the lady's dress! he then 
sprung up, like a sturgeon, crossed his feet four times, and fin- 
ished this wonderful evolution by quivering his left leg, as a 
cat does her paw when she has accidentally dipped it in water. 
No man "of woman born," who was not a Frenchman or a 
mountebank, could have done the like. 

Among the new faces, I remarked a blooming nymph, who 
has brought a fresh supply of roses from the country to adorn 



SALMAGUNDI. 17 

the wreath of beauty, where lilies too much predominate. As 
I wish well to every sweet face under heaven, I sincerely hope 
her roses may survive the frosts and dissipations of winter, and 
lose nothing by a comparison with the loveliest offerings of the 
spring. 'Sbidlikens, to whom I made similar remarks, assured 
me that they were very just, and very prettily exprest ; and 
that the lady in question was a prodigious fine piece of flesh 
and blood. Now could I find it in my heart to baste these 
cockneys like their own roast-beef — they can make no distinc- 
tion between a fine woman and a fine horse. 

I would praise the sylph-like grace with which another young 
lady acquitted herself in the dance, but that she excels in far 
more valuable accomplishments. Who praises the rose for its 
beauty, even though it is beautiful. 

The company retired at the customary hour to the supper- 
room, where the tables were laid out with their usual S£>len- 
dour and profusion. My friend, 'Sbidlikens, with the native 
forethought of a cockney, had carefully stowed his pocket with 
cheese and crackers, that he might not be tempted again to 
venture his limbs in the crowd of hungry fair ones who throng 
the supper-room door ; his precaution was unnecessary, for the 
company entered the room with surprising order and decorum, 
No gowns were torn — no ladies fainted— no noses bled — nor was 
there any need of the interference of either managers or peace 
officers. 



18 SALMAGUNDI. 



NO. II -WEDNESDAY, FEB'Y 4, 1807. 



FROM THE ELBOW-CHAIR OF LAUNCELOT LANG* 

STAFF, ESQ. 

In the conduct of an epic poem, it has been the custom, from 
time immemorial, for the poet occasionally to introduce his 
reader to an intimate acquaintanee with the heroes of his story, 
by conducting him into their tents, and giving him an oppor- 
tunity of observing them in their night-gown and slippers. 
However I despise the servile genius that would descend to fol- 
low a precedent, though furnished by Homer himself, and con- 
sider him as on a par with the cart that follows at the heels of 
the horse, without ever taking the lead, yet at the present mo- 
ment my whim is opposed to my opinion ; and whenever this 
is the case, my opinion generally surrenders at discretion, i 
am determined, therefore, to give the town a peep into our 
divan ; and I shall repeat it as often as I please, to show that I 
intend to be sociable. 

The other night Will Wizard and Evergreen called upon me, 
to pass away a few hours in social chat and hold a kind of 
council of war. To give a zest to our evening I uncorked a 
bottle of London particular, which has grown old with myself, 
and which never fails to excite a smile in the countenances of 
my old cronies, to whom alone it is devoted. After some little 
time the conversation turned on the effect produced by our 
first number ; every one had his budget of information, and I 
assure my readers that we laughed most unceremoniously at 
their expense ; they will excuse us for our merriment — 'tis a 
way we've got. Evergreen, who is equally a favourite and 
companion of young and old, was particularly satisfactory in 
his details ; and it was highly amusing to hear how different 
characters were tickled with different passages. The old folks 
were delighted to find there was a bias in our junto towards 



SALMAGUNDI. 19 

the "good old times;" and he particularly noticed a worthy 
old gentleman of his acquaintance, who had been somewhat a 
beau in his day, whose eyes brightened at the bare mention of 
Kissing-bridge. It recalled to his recollection several of his 
youthful exploits, at that celebrated pass, on which he seemed 
to dwell with great pleasure and self-complacency ; — he hoped, 
he said, that the bridge might be preserved for the benefit of 
posterity, and as a monument of the gallantry of their grand- 
fathers; and even hinted at the expediency of erecting a toll- 
gate, to collect the forfeits of the ladies. But the most flatter- 
ing testimony of approbation, which our work has received, 
was from an old lady, who never laughed but once in her life, 
and that was at the conclusion of the last war. She was de- 
tected by friend Anthony in the very fact of laughing most 
obstreporously at the description of the little dancing French- 
man. Now it glads my very heart to find our effusions have 
such a pleasing effect. I venerate the aged, and joy whenever 
it is in my power to scatter a few flowers in their path. 

The young people were particularly interested in the account 
of the assembly. There was some difference of opinion re- 
specting the new planet, and the blooming nymph from the 
country ; but as to the compliment paid to the fascinating little 
sylph who danced so gracefully — every lady modestly took 
that to herself. 

Evergreen mentioned also that the young ladies were ex- 
tremely anxious to learn the true mode of managing their 
beaux; and Miss Diana Wear well, who is as chaste as an 
icicle, has seen a few superfluous winters pass over her head, 
and boasts of having slain her thousands, wished to know how 
old maids were to do without husbands; — not that she was 
very curious about the matter, she ' • only asked for informa- 
tion." Several ladies expressed their earnest desire that we 
would net spare those wooden gentlemen who perform the 
parts of mutes, or stalking horses, in their drawing-rooms; 
and their mothers were equally anxious that we would show 
no quarter to those lads of spirit, who now and then cut their 
bottles to enliven a tea-party with the humours of the dinner- 
table. 

Will Wizard was not a little chagrined at having been mis- 
taken for a gentleman, 4 ' who is no more like me, " said Will, 
"than I like Hercules." — ".I was well assured," continued 
Will, "that as our characters were drawn from nature, the 
originals would be found in every society. And so it has hap- 



20 SALMAGUNDI. 

pened— every little circle has its 'Sbidlikens ; and the cockney, 
intended merely as the representative of his species, has 
dwindled into an insignificant individual, who having recog- 
nised his own likeness, has f oolishly appropriated to himself a 
picture for which he never sat. Such, too, has been the case 
witli Ding-dong, who has kindly undertaken to be my repre- 
sentative ; — not that I care much about the matter, for it must 
£ ^ acknowledged that the animal is a good animal enough ; — 
and what if more, a fashionable animal— and this is saying 
more than to call him a conjurer. But, I am much mistaken 
if he can claim any affinity to the Wizard family. — Surely 
every body knows Ding-dong, the gentle Ding-dong, who per- 
vades all space, who is here and there and every where ; no 
tea-party can be complete without Ding-dong— and his appear- 
ance is sure to occasion a smile. Ding-dong has been the 
occasion o much wit in his day; I have even seen many 
whipsters attempt to be dull at his expense, who were as. much 
inferior to him as the gad-fly is to the ox that he buzzes about. 
Does any witling want to distress the company with a misera- 
ble pun? nobody' name presents sooner than Ding-dong's; 
and it has beeii played upon with equal skill and equal enter- 
tainment to the by-standers as Trinity-bells. Ding-dong is 
profoundly devoted to the ladies, and highly entitled to their 
regard ; for I know no man who makes a better bow, or talks 
les^ to the purpose than Ding-dong. Ding-dong has acquired a 
prodigious fund of knowledge by reading Dil worth when a 
bo;; and the other day, on being asked who was the author 
of Macbeth, answered, without the least hesitation— Shak- 
speare ! Ding-dong has a quotation for every day of the year, 
and every hour of the day, and every minute of the hour; but 
he often commits petty larcenies on the poets— plucks the gray 
hairs of old Chaucer's head, and claps them on the chin of 
Pope; and filches Johnson's wig, to cover the bald pate of 
Homer;— but his blunders pass undetected by one-half of his 
hearers. Ding-dong, it is true, though he has long wrangled 
at our bar, cannot boast much of his legal knowledge, nor does 
his forensic eloquence entitle him to rank with a Cicero or a 
Demosthenes ; but bating his professional deficiencies, he is a 
man of most delectable discourse, and can hold forth for an 
hour upon the colour of a riband or the construction of a work- 
bag. Ding-dong is now in his fortieth year, or perhaps a little 
more — rivals all the little beaux in the town, in his attentions 
to the ladies — is in a state of rapid improvement ; and there is 



SALMAGUJSDI. 21 

no doubt bu that by the time he arrives at years of discretion, 
he will be a very accomplished, agreeable young fellow." — I 
advise all clever, good-for-nothing, "learned and authentic 
gentlemen," to take care how they wear this cap, however 
well it fits ; and to bear in mind, that our characters are not 
individuals, but species: if, after this warning, any person 
chooses to represent Mr. Ding-dong, the sin is at his own door; 
we wash our hands of it. 

We all sympathized with Wizard, that he should be mis- 
taken for a person so very different ; and I hereby assure my 
readers, that William Wizard is no other person in the whole 
world but William Wizard ; so I heg I may hear no more con- 
jectures on the subject. Will is, in fact, a, wiseacre by inherit- 
ance. The Wizard family has long been celebrated for know- 
ing more than their neighbours, particularly concerning their 
neighbours' affairs. They were anciently called Josselin ; but 
Will's great uncle, by the father's side, having been accident- 
ally burnt for a witch in Connecticut, in consequence of blow- 
ing up his own house in a philosophical experiment, the 
family, in order to perpetuate the recollection of this memora- 
ble circumstance, assumed the name and arms of Wizard ; and 
have borne them ever since. 

In the course of my customary morning's walk, I stopped in 
a book-store, which is noted for being the favourite haunt of a 
number of literati, some of whom rank high in the opinion of 
the world, and others rank equally high in their own. Here I 
found a knot of queer fellows listening to one of their com- 
pany who was reading our paper; I particularly noticed Mr. 
Ichabod Fungus among the number. 

Fungus is one of those fidgeting, meddling quidnuncs, with 
which this unhappy city is pestered: one of your "Q in a 
corner fellows, " who speaks volumes with a wink; — conveys 
most portentous information, by laying his finger beside his 
nose, — and is always smelling a rat in the most trifling occur- 
rence. He listened to our work with the most frigid gravity — 
every now and then gave a mysterious shrug — a humph — or a 
screw of the mouth ; and on being asked his opinion at the 
conclusion, said, he did. not know what to think of it; — he 
hoped it did not mean any thing against the government— that 
no lurking treason was couched in all this talk. These were 
dangerous times —times of plot and conspiracy ; he did not at 
all like those stars after Mr. Jefferson's name, they had an air 
of concealment. Dick Paddle, who was one of the group, 



22 SALMAGUNDI. 

undertook our cause. Dick is known to the world, as being a 
most knowing genius, who can see as far as any body— into a 
millstone; maintains, in the teeth of all argument, that a 
spade is a spade; and will labour a good half hour by St. 
Paul's clock, to establish a self-evident fact. Dick assured old 
Fungus, that those stars merely stood for Mr. Jefferson's red 
what-cVye-call-ems ; and that so far from a conspiracy against 
their peace and prosperity, the authors, whom he knew very 
well, were only expressing their high respect for them. The old 
man shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, gave a mysteri- 
ous Lord Burleigh nod, said he hoped it might be so ; but he 
was by no means satisfied with this attack upon the Presi- 
dent's breeches, as " thereby hangs a tale." 



MR, WILSON'S CONCERT. 



BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 



In my register of indisputable facts I have noted it conspicu- 
ously that all modern music is but the mere dregs and drain- 
ing of the ancient, and that all the spirit and vigour of har- 
mony has entirely evaporated in the lapse of ages. Oh ! for 
the chant of the Naiades, and Dryades, the shell of the Tritons, 
and the sweet warblings of the Mermaids of ancient days! 
where now shall we seek the Amphion, who built walls with a 
turn of his hurdy-gurdy, the Orpheus who made stones to 
whistle about his ears, and trees hop in a country dance, by 
the mere quavering of his fiddle-stick ! ah ! had I the power of 
the former how soon would I build up the new City-Hall, and 
save the cash and credit of the Corporation ; and how much 
sooner would I build myself a snug house in Broadway:— nor 
would it be the first time a house has been obtained there for a 
song. In my opinion, the Scotch bag-pipe is the only instru- 
ment that rivals the ancient lyre ; and I am surprised it should 
be almost the only one entirely excluded from our concerts. 

Talking of concerts reminds me of that given a few nights 
since by Mr. Wilson ; at which I had the misfortune of being 
present. It was attended by a numerous company, and gave 
great satisfaction, if I may be allowed to judge from the 
frequent gapings of the audience ; though I will not risk my 



SALMAGUNDI. 23 

credit as a connoisseur, by saying whether they proceeded 
from wonder or a violent inclination to doze. I was delighted 
to find in the mazes of the crowd, my particular friend 
Stivers, who had put on his cognoscenti phiz— he being, 
according to his own account, a profound adept in the science 
of music. He can tell a crotchet at first sight ; and, like a true 
Englishman, is delighted with the plum-pudding rotundity of 
a semibref; and, in short, boasts of having incontinently 
climbed up Paff's musical tree, which hangs every day upon 
the poplar, from the fundamental concord, to the fundamental 
major discord; and so on from branch to branch, until he 
reached the very top, where he sung "Rule Britannia," 
clapped his wings, and then — came down again. Like all true 
trans-atlantic judges, he suffers most horribly at our musical 
entertainments, and assures me, that what with the con- 
founded scraping, and scratching, and grating of our fiddlers, 
he thinks the sitting out one of our concerts tantamount to the 
punishment of that unfortunate saint, who was frittered in 
two with a hand-saw. 

The concert was given in the tea-room, at the City-Hotel ; an 
apartment admirably calculated, by its dingy walls, beauti- 
fully marbled with smoke, to show off the dresses and com- 
plexions of the ladies; and by the flatness of its ceiling to 
repress those impertinent reverberations of the music, which, 
whatever others may foolishly assert, are, as Snivers says, 
"no better than repetitions of old stories." 

Mr. Wilson gave me infinite satisfaction by the gentility of 
his demeanour, and the roguish looks he now and then cast at 
the ladies, but we fear his excessive modesty threw him into 
some little confusion, for he absolutely forgot himself, and in 
the whole course of his entrances and exits, never once made 
his bow to the audience. On the whole, however, I think he 
has a fine voice, sings with great taste, and is a very modest, 
good-looking little man: but I beg leave to repeat the advice so 
often given by the illustrious tenants of the theatrical sky- 
parlour, to the gentlemen who are charged with the " nico 
conduct" of chairs and tables — "make a bow, Johnny — 
Johnny, make a bow !" 

I cannot, on this occasion, but express my surprise that cer- 
tain amateurs should be so frequently at concerts, considering 
what agonies they suffer while a piece of music is playing. 
I defy any man of common humanity, and who has not the 
heart of a Choctaw, to contemplate the countenance of one of 



24 SALMAGUNDI. 

these unhappy victims of a fiddle-stick without feeling a senti- 
ment of compassion. His whole visage is distorted; he rolls 
up his eyes, as M'Sycophant says, "like a duck in thunder," 
and the music seems to operate upon him like a fit of the 
colic : his very bowels seem to sympathize at every twang of 
the cat-gut, as if he heard at that moment the wailings of the 
helpless animal that had been sacrificed to harmony. Nor 
does the hero of the orchestra seem less affected • as soon as 
the signal is given, he seizes his fiddle-stick, makes a most 
horrible grimace, scowls fiercely upon his music-book, as 
though he would grin every crotchet and quaver out of counte- 
nance. I have sometimes particularly noticed a hungry -looking 
Gaul, who torments a huge bass-viol, and who is, doubtless, the 
original of the famous " Baw-head-and-bloody-bones, " so potent 
in frightening naughty children. 

The person who played the French-horn was very excellent 
in his way, but Snivers could not relish his performance, hav- 
ing sometime since heard a gentleman amateur in Gotham 
play a solo on his proboscis, in a style infinitely superior;— 
Snout, the bellows-mender, never turned his wind instrument 
more musically ; nor did the celebrated ' ' knight of the burn- 
ing lamp," ever yield more exquisite entertainment with his 
nose; this gentleman had latterly ceased to exhibit this pro- 
digious accomplishment, having, it was whispered, hired out 
his snout to a ferryman, who had lost his conch-shell; — the 
consequence was that he did not show his nose in company so 
frequently as before. 



Sitting late the other evening in my elbow-chair, indulging 
in that kind of indolent meditation, which I consider the per- 
fection of human bliss, I was roused from my reverie by the 
entrance of an old servant in the Cockloft livery, who handed 
me a letter, containing the following address from my cousin 
and old college chum, Pindar Cockloft. 

Honest Andrew, as he delivered it, informed me that his 
master, who resides a little way from town, on reading a small 
pamphlet in a neat yellow cover, rubbed his hands with 
symptoms of great satisfaction, called for his favourite 
Chinese inkstand, with two sprawling Mandarines for its sup- 
porters, and wrote the letter which he had the honour to 
present me, 



SALMAGUJSDI. 25 

As I foresee my cousin will one day become a great favourite 
with the public, and as I know Mm to be somewhat punctilious 
as it respects etiquette, I shall take this opportunity to gratify 
the old gentleman by giving him a proper introduction to the 
fashionable world. The Cockloft family, to which I have the 
comfort of being related, has been fruitful in old bachelors 
and humourists, as will be perceived when I come to treat 
more of its history. My cousin Pindar is one of its most con- 
spicuous members— he is now in his fifty-eighth year — is a 
bachelor, partly through choice, and partly through chance, 
and an oddity of the first water. Half his life has been em- 
ployed in writing odes, sonnets, epigrams, and elegies, which 
he seldom show^s to any body but myself after they are 
written ; and all the old chests, drawers, and chair-bottoms in 
the house, teem with his productions. 

In his younger days he figured as a dashing blade in the 
great world ; and no young fellow of the town wore a longer 
pig-tail, or carried more buckram in his skirts. From sixteen 
to thirty he was continually in love, and during that period, 
to use his own words, he be-scribbled more paper than would 
serve the theatre for snow-storms a whole season. The even- 
ing of his thirtieth birthday, as he sat by the fireside, as much 
in love as ever was man in the world and writing the name of 
his t mistress in the ashes, w 7 ith an old tongs that had lost one 
of its legs, he was seized with a whim-wham that he was an 
old fool to be in love at his time of life. It was ever one of 
the Cockloft characteristics to strike to whim ; and had Pindar 
stood out on this occasion he would have brought the reputa- 
tion of his mother in question. From that time he gave up all 
particular attentions to the ladies ; and though he still loves 
their company, he has never been known to exceed the bounds 
of common courtesy in his intercourse with them. He was 
the life and ornament of our family circle in town, until the 
epoch of the French revolution, which sent so many unfor- 
tunate dancing-masters from their country to polish and en- 
lighten our hemisphere. This was a sad time for Pindar, who 
had taken a genuine Cockloft prejudice against every thing 
French, ever since he was brought to death's door by a ragout: 
he groaned at Ca Ira, and the Marseilles Hymn had much the 
same effect upon him that sharpening a knife on a dry whet- 
stone has upon some people; — it set his teeth chattering. He 
might in time have been reconciled to these rubs, had not the 
introduction of French cockades on the hats of our citizens 



26 SALMAGUNDI. 

absolutely thrown him into a fever. The first time he saw an 
instance of this kind, he came home with great precipitation, 
packed up his trunk, his old-fashioned writing-desk, and his 
Chinese ink-stand, and made a kind of growling retreat to 
Cockloft-Hall, where he has resided ever since. 

My cousin Pindar is of a mercurial disposition, — a humour- 
ist without ill-nature — he is of the true gun-powder temper ; — 
one flash and all is over. It is true when the wind is easterly, 
or the gout gives him a gentle twinge, or he hears of any new 
successes of the French, he will become a little splenetic ; and 
heaven help the man, and more particularly the woman, that 
crosses his humour at that moment;— she is sure to receive no 
quarter. These are the most sublime moments of Pindar. I 
swear to you, dear ladies and gentlemen, I would not lose one 
of these splenetic bursts for the best wig in my wardrobe; 
even though it were proved to be the identical wig worn by 
the sage Linkum Fidelius, when he demonstrated before the 
whole university of Leyden, that it was possible to make 
bricks without straw. I have seen the old gentleman blaze 
forth such a volcanic explosion of wit, ridicule, and satire, 
that I was almost tempted to believe him inspired. But these 
sallies only lasted for a moment, and passed like summer 
clouds over the benevolent sunshine which ever warmed his 
heart and lighted up his countenance. 

Time, though it has dealt roughly with his person, has 
passed lightly over the graces of his mind, and left him in full 
possession of all the sensibilities of youth. His eye kindles at 
the relation of a noble and generous action, his heart melts at 
the story of distress, and he is still a warm admirer of the 
fair. Like all old bachelors, however, he looks back with a 
fond and lingering eye on the period of his boyhood; and 
would sooner suffer the pangs of matrimony than acknowl- 
edge that the world, or any thing in it, is half so clever as it 
was in those good old times that are "gone by." 

I believe I have already mentioned, that with all his good 
qualities he is a humourist, and a humourist of the highest 
order. He has some of the most intolerable whim- whams I 
ever met with in my life, and his oddities are sufficient to eke 
out a hundred tolerable originals. But I will not enlarge on 
them — enough has been told to excite a desire to know more ; 
and I am much mistaken, if in the course of half a dozen of 
our numbers, he don't tickle, plague, please, and perplex the 
whole town, and completely establish his claim to the laure- 



SALMAGUNDI. 27 

ateship be has solicited, and with which we hereby invest 
him, recommending liim and his effusions to public reverence 
and respect. 

Launcelot Langstaff. 



TO LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

Dear Launce, 

As I find you have taken the quill, 
To put our gay town, and its fair under drill, 
I offer my hopes for success to your cause, 
And send you unvarnish'd my mite of applause. 

Ah, Launce, this poor town has been wofully fash'd ; 
Has long been be-Frenchniand, be-cockney'd, be-trash'd ; 
And our ladies be-deviTd, bewilder'd astray, 
From the rules of there grandames have wander'd away. 
No longer that modest demeanour we meet, 
Winch whilom the eyes of our fathers did greet ; — 
No longer be-mobbled, be-rufiied, be-quill'd, 
Be-powder'd, be-hooded, be-patch'd, and be-frill'd, — 
No longer our fair ones their grograms display, 
And stiff in brocade, strut "like castles" away. 

Oh, how fondly my soul forms departed have traced, 
When our ladies in stays, and in boddice well laced, 
When bishop'd, and cushion'd, and hoop'd to the chin, 
Well callash'd without, and well bolster'd within ; 
All cased in their buckrams, from crown down to tail, 
Like O'Brallagan's mistress, were shaped like a pail. 

Well — peace to those fashions — the joy of our eyes — 
Tempora mutantur,— new follies will rise; 
Yet, "like joys that are past," they still crowd on the mind, 
In moments of thought, as the soul looks behind. 

Sweet days of our boyhood, gone by, my dear Launce, 
Like the shadows of night, or the forms in a trance ; 
Yet oft we retrace those bright visions again, 
Nos mutamur, 'tis true — but those visions remain. 
I recall with delight, how my bosom would creep, 
When some delicate foot from its chamber would peep ; 
And when I a neat stocking'd ankle could spy, 
—By the sages of old, I was rapt to the sky ! 



28 SALMAGUNDI. 

All then was retiring — was modest — discreet ; 

The beauties, all shrouded, were left to conceit ; 

To the visions which fancy would form in her eye, 

Of graces that snug in soft ambush would lie ; 

And the heart, like the poets, in thought would pursue 

The elysium of bliss, which was veil'd from its view. 

We are old-f ashion'd fellows, our nieces will say : 
Old-fashion'd, indeed, coz— and swear it they may — 
For I freely confess that it yields me no pride, 
To see them all blaze what their mothers would hide : 
To see them, all shivering, some cold winter's day, 
So lavish their beauties and graces display, 
And give to each f opling that offers his hand, 
Like Moses from Pisgah — a peep at the land. 

But a truce with complaining— the object in view 
Is to offer my help in the work you pursue ; 
And as your effusions and labours sublime, 
May need, now and then, a few touches of rhyme, 
I humbly solicit, as cousin and friend, 
A quiddity, quirk, or remonstrance to send : 
Or should you a laureate want in your plan, 
By the muff of my grandmother, I am your man ! 
You must know I have got a poetical mill, 
Which with odd lines, and couplets, and triplits I fill; 
And a poem I grind, as from rags white and blue 
The paper-mill yields you a sheet fair and new. 
I can grind down an ode, or an epic that's long, 
Into sonnet, acrostic, conundrum, or song: 
As to dull hudibrastic, so boasted of late, 
The doggerel discharge of some muddled brain'd pate, 
I can grind it by wholesale— and give it its point, 
With billingsgate dish'd up in rhymes out of joint. 

I have read all the poets— and got them by heart, 
Can slit them, and twist them, and take them apart ; 
Can cook up an ode out of patches and shreds, 
To muddle my readers, and bother their heads. 
Old Homer, and Virgil, and Ovid I scan, 
Anacreon, and Sappho, who changed to a swan;— 
Iambics and sapphics I grind at my will, 
And with ditties of love every noddle can fill. 

Oh, 'twould do your heart good, Launce, to see my mill 
grind 
Old stuff into verses, and poems refin'd ; — 



SALMAGUNDI. 29 

Dan Spencer, Dan Chaucer, those poets of old, 
Though cover 'd with dust, are yet true sterling gold ; 
I can grind on: their tarnish, and bring them to view, 
New modelFd, new muTd, and improved in their hue. 

But I promise no more — only give me the place, 
And I'll warrant I'll fill it with credit and grace ; 
By the living ! I'll figure and cut you a dash 
—As bold as Will Wizard, or 'Sbidlikens-flash ! 

Pindar Cockloft c 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



Perhaps the most fruitful source of mortification to a merry 
writer who, for the amusement of himself and the public, 
employs his leisure in sketching odd characters from imagina- 
tion, is, that he cannot flourish his pen, but every Jack-pud- 
ding imagines it is pointed directly at himself :— he cannot, 
in his gambols, throw a fool's cap among the crowed, but every 
queer fellow insists upon puttng it on his own head ; or chalk 
an outlandish figure, but every outlandish genius is eager to 
write his own name under it. However we may be mortified, 
that these men should each individually think himself of suffi- 
cient consequence to engage our attention, we should not care 
a rush about it, if they did not get into a passion and com- 
plain of having been ill-used. 

It is not in our hearts to hurt the feelings of one single 
mortal, by holding him up to public ridicule ; and if it were, 
we lay it down as one of our indisputable facts, that no man 
can be made ridiculous but by his own folly. As, however, 
we are aware that when a man by chance gets a thwack in the 
crowd, he is apt to suppose the blow was intended exclusively 
for himself, and so fall into unreasonable anger, we have de- 
termined to let these crusty gentry know what kind of satis 
faction they are to expect from us. We are resolved not to 
fight, for three special reasons; first, because fighting is at all 
events extremely troublesome and inconvenient, particularly 
at this season of the year; second, because if either of us 
should happen to be killed, it would be a great loss to the 
public, and rob them of many a good laugh we have in store 
for their amusement ; and third, because if we should chance 
to kill our adversary, as is most likely, for we can every one 



30 SALMAGUNDI. 

of us split balls upon razors, arid snuff candles, it would be a 
loss to our publisher, by depriving him of a good customer. 
If any gentleman casuist will give three as good reasons for 
fighting, we promise him a complete set of Salmagundi for 
nothing. 

But though we do not fight in our own proper persons, let it 
aot be supposed that we will not give ample satisfaction to all 
those who may choose to demand it — for this would be a mis- 
take of the first magnitude, and lead very valiant gentlemen per- 
haps into what is called a quandary. It would be a thousand 
and one pities, that any honest man, after taking to himself 
the cap and bells which we merely offered to his acceptance, 
should not have the privilege of being cudgeled into the bar- 
gain. We pride ourselves upon giving satisfaction in every 
department of our paper; and to fill that of fighting have en- 
gaged two of those strapping heroes of the theatre, who figure 
in the retinues of our ginger-bread kings and queens; now 
hurry an old stuff petticoat on their backs, and strut senators 
of Eome, or aldermen of London ; — and now be- whisker their 
muffin faces with burnt cork, and swagger right valiant war- 
riors, armed cap-a-pie, in buckram. Should, therefore, any 
great little man about town, take offence at our good-natured 
villainy, though we intend to offend nobody under heaven, he 
will please to apply at any hour after twelve o'clock, as our 
champions will then be off duty at the theatre and ready for 
anything. They have promised to fight " with or without 
balls," — to give two tweaks of the nose for one — to submit to 
be kicked, and to cudgel their applicant most heartily in re- 
turn : this being what we understand by ' ' the satisfaction of a 
gentleman." 



SALMAGUNDI gl 



NO. Ill -FRIDAY. FEBRUARY 13, 1807. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

As I delight in every thing novel and eccentric, and would 
at any time give an old coat for a new idea, I am particularly 
attentive to the manners and conversation of strangers, and 
scarcely ever a traveler enters this city, whose appearance 
promises any thing original, but by some means or another I 
form an acquaintance with him. I must confess I often suffer 
manifold afflictions from the intimacies thus contracted : my 
curiosity is frequently punished by the stupid details of a 
blockhead, or the shallow verbosity of a coxcomb. Now I 
would prefer at any time to travel with an ox-team through a 
Carolina sand-flat rather than plod through a heavy unmean- 
ing conversation with the former; and as to the latter, I would 
sooner hold sweet converse with the wheel of a knife grinder 
than endure his monotonous chattering. In fact, the strangers 
who flock to this most pleasant of all earthly cities, are gener- 
ally mere birds of passage whose plumage is often gay enough, 
I own, but their notes, "heaven save the mark," are as un- 
musical as those of that classic night bird, which the ancients 
humorously selected as the emblem of wisdom. Those from 
the south, it is true, entertain me with their horses, equipages, 
and puns: and it is excessively pleasant to hear a couple of 
these four in hand gentlemen detail their exploits over a 
bottle. Those from the east have often induced me to doubt 
the existence of the wise men of yore, who are said to hay4 
flourished in that quarter; and as for those from parts beyond 
seas — oh! my masters, ye shall hear more from me anoR. 
Heaven help this unhappy town ! —hath it not goslings enow 
of its own hatching and rearing, that it must be overwhelmed 
by such an inundation of ganders from other climes? I would 
not have any of my cqurtequs and gentle readers suppose that 






32 SALMAGUNDI. 

I am running a much, full tilt, cut and slash upon all foreign- 
ers indiscriminately. I have no national antipathies, though 
related to the Cockloft family. As to honest John Bull, I 
shake him heartily by the hand, assuring him that I love his 
jolly countenance, and moreover am lineally descended from 
him ; in proof of which I allege my invincible predilection for 
roast beef and pudding. I therefore look upon all his children 
as my kinsmen ; and I beg when I tackle a cockney I may not 
be understood as trimming an Englishman ; they being very 
distinct animals, as I shall clearly demonstrate in a future 
number. If any one wishes to know my opinion of the Irish 
and Scotch, he may find it in the characters of those two 
nations, drawn by the first advocate of the age. But the 
French, I must confess, are my favourites ; and I have taken 
more pains to argue my cousin Pindar out of his antipathy to 
them, than I ever did about any other thing. When, there- 
fore, I choose to hunt a Monsieur for my own particular 
amusement, I beg it may not be asserted that I intend him 
as a representative of his countrymen at large. Far from this 
— I love the nation, as being a nation of right merry fellows, 
possessing the true secret of being happy ; which is nothing 
more than thinking of nothing, talking about any thing, and 
laughing at every thing. I mean only to tune up those little 
thing-o-mys, who represent nobody but themselves; who have 
no national trait about them but their language, and who hop 
about our town in swarms like little toads after a shower. 

Among the few strangers whose acquaintance has enter- 
tained me, I particularly rank the magnanimous Mustapha 
Eub-a-dub Keli Khan, a most illustrious captain of a ketch, 
who figured some time since, in our fashionable circles, at the 
head of a ragged regiment of Tripolitan prisoners. His con- 
versation was to me a perpetual feast ; — I chuckled with in- 
ward pleasure at his whimsical mistakes and unaffected ob- 
servations on men and manners ; and I rolled each odd con- 
ceit "like a sweet morsel under my tongue." 

Whether Mustapha was captivated by my iron-bound 
physiognomy, or flattered by the attentions which I paid him, 
I won't determine ; but I so far gained his confidence, that, at 
his departure, he presented me with a bundle of papers, con- 
taining, among other articles, several copies of letters, which 
he had written to his friends at Tripoli.— The following is a 
translation of one of them.— The original is in Arabic-Greek: 
but by the assistance of Will Wizard, who understands all 



SALMAGUNDI. S3 

languages, not excepting that manufactured by Psalmanzar, I 
have been enabled to accomplish a tolerable translation. We 
should have found little difficulty in rendering it into English, 
had it not been for Mustapha's confounded pot-hooks and 
trammels. 



LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, 

CAPTAIN OF A KETCH, TO ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL SLAVE- 
DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESS THE BASHAW OF TRIPOLI. 

Thou wilt learn from this letter, most illustrious disciple of 
Mahomet, that I have for some time resided in New-York; 
the most polished, vast, and magnificent city of the United 
States of America. But what to me are its delights ! I wan- 
der a captive through its splendid streets, I turn a heavy eye 
on every rising day that beholds me banished from my coun- 
try. The Christian husbands here lament most bitterly any 
short absence from home, though they leave but one wife be- 
hind to lament their departure ; — what then must be the feel- 
ings of thy unhappy kinsman, while thus lingering at an im- 
measurable distance from three-and-twenty of the most lovely 
and obedient wives in all Tripoli ! Oh, Allah ! shall thy servant 
never again return to his native land, nor behold his beloved 
wives, who beam on his memory beautiful as the rosy morn of 
the east, and graceful as Mahomet's camel ! 

Yet beautiful, oh, most puissant slave-driver, as are my 
wives, they are far exceeded by the women of this country. 
Even those who run about the streets with bare arms and necks 
(et cetera) whose habiliments are too scanty to protect them 
either from the inclemency of the season, or the scrutinizing 
friances of the curious, and who it would seem belong to no- 
body, are lovely as the houris that people the elysium of true 
believers. If, then, such as run wild in the highways, and 
whom no one cares to appropriate, are thus beauteous ; what 
must be the charms of those who are shut up in the seraglios 
and never permitted to go abroad ! surely the region of beauty, 
the valley of the graces, can contain nothing so inimitably fair ! 

But, notwithstanding the charms of these infidel women, 
they are apt to have one fault, which is extremely troublesome 
and inconvenient. Wouldst thou believe it, Asem, I have 



34 SALMAGUNDI. 

been positively assured by a famous dervise, or doctor as be is 
here called, that at least one-fifth part of them — have souls ! 
incredible as it may seem to thee, I am the more inclined to 
believe them in possession of this monstrous superfluity, from 
rny own little experience, and from the information which I 
have derived from others. In walking the streets I have 
actually seen an exceedingly good-looking woman with soul 
enough to box her husband's ears to his heart's content, and 
my very whiskers trembled with indignation at the abject 
state of these wretched infidels. I am told, moreover, that 
some of the women have soul enough to usurp the breeches of 
the men, but these I suppose are married and kept close ; for I 
have not, in my rambles, met with any so extravagantly 
accoutred ; others, I am informed, have soul enough to swear ! 
—yea! by the beard of the great Omar, who prayed three 
times to each of the one hundred and twenty-four thousand 
prophets of our most holy faith, and who never swore but 
once in his life — they actually swear I 

Get thee to the mosque, good Asem ! return thanks to our 
most holy prophet that he has been thus mindful of the com- 
fort of all true Mussulmen. and has given them wives with no 
more souls than cats and dogs and other necessary animals of 
the household. 

Thou wilt doubtless be anxious to learn our reception in this 
country, and how we were treated by a people whom we* have 
been accustomed to consider as unenlightened barbarians. 

On landing, we were waited upon to our lodgings, I suppose 
according to the directions of the mrnicipality, by a vast and 
respectable escort of boys and negroes; who shouted and 
threw up their hats, doubtless to do honour to the magnani- 
mous Mustapha, captain of a ketch ; they were somewhat rag- 
ged and dirty in their equipments, but this we attributed to 
their republican simplicity. One of them, in the zeal of ad- 
miration, threw an old shoe, which gave thy friend rather an 
ungentle salutation on one side of the head, whereat I was not 
a little offended, until the interpreter informed us that this 
was the customary manner in which great men were honoured 
in this country ; and that the more distinguished they were, 
the more they were subjected to the attacks and peltings of 
the mob. Upon this I bowed my head Ihree times, with my 
hands to my turban, and made a speech in Arabic-Greek, which 
gave great satisfaction and occasioned a shower of old shoes, 
hats, and so forth, that was exceedingly refreshing to us all. 



SALMAGUNDI. 85 

Thou wilt not as yet expect that I should give thee an 
account of the taws and politics of this country. I will reserve 
them for some future letter, when I shall be more experienced 
in their complicated and seemingly contradictory nature. 

This empire is governed by a grand and most puissant ba- 
shaw, whom they dignify with the title of president. He is 
chosen by persons who are chosen by an assembly elected by 
the people — hence the mob is called the sovereign people ; and 
the country, free ; the body politic doubtless resembling a ves- 
sel, which is best governed by its tail. The present bashaw is 
a very plain old gentleman— something, they say, of a humour- 
ist, as he amuses himself with impaling butterflies and pickling 
tadpoles; he is rather declining in popularity, having given 
great offence by wearing red breeches, and tying his horse to a 
post. The people of the United States have assured me that 
they themselves are the most enlightened nation under the 
sun ; but thou knowest that the barbarians of the desert, who 
assemble at the summer solstice to shoot their arrows at that 
glorious luminary, in order to extinguish his burning rays, 
make precisely the same boast;— which of them have the supe- 
rior claim, I shall not attempt to decide. 

I have observed, with some degree of surprise, that the men 
of this country do not seem in haste to accommodate them- 
selves even with the single wife which alone the laws permit 
them to marry ; this backwardness is probably owing to the 
misfortune of their absolutely having no female mutes among 
them. Thou knowest how invaluable are these silent compan- 
ions ; — what a price is given for them in the east, and what en- 
tertaining wives they make. "What delightful entertainment 
arises from beholding the silent eloquence of their signs and 
gestures ; but a wife possessed both of a tongue and a soul- 
monstrous! monstrous! is it astonishing that these unhappy 
infidels should shrink from a union with a woman so prepos- 
terously endowed. 

Thou hast doubtless read in the works of Abul Faraj, the 
Arabian historian, the tradition which mentions that the 
muses were once upon the point of falling together by the ears 
about the admission of a tenth among their number, until she 
assured them by signs that she was dumb ; whereupon they 
received her with great rejoicing. I should, perhaps, inform 
thee that there are but nine Christian muses, who were for- 
merly pagans, but have since been converted, and that in this 
country we never hear of a tenth, unless some crazy poet 



36 SALMAGUNDI. 

wishes to pay a hyperbolical compliment to his mistress ; on 
which occasion it goes hard, but she figures as a tenth muse, 
or fourth grace, even though she should be more illiterate than 
a Hottentot, and more ungraceful than a dancing-bear ! Since 
my arrival in this country I have met with not less than a 
hundred of these supernumerary muses and graces — and may 
Allah preserve me from ever meeting with any more ! 

When I have studied this people more profoundly, I will 
write thee again; in the mean time, watch over my house- 
hold, and do not beat my beloved wives unler>s you catch them 
with their noses out at the window. Though far distant and a 
slave, let me live in thy heart as thou livest in mine : — think 
not, O friend of my soul, that the splendours of this luxurious 
capital, its gorgeous palaces, its stupendous masques, and the 
beautiful females who run wild in herds about its streets, can 
obliterate thee from my remembrance. Thy name shall still 
be mentioned in the five-and-twenty prayers which I offer up 
daily ; and may our great prophet, after bestowing on thee all 
the blessings of this life, at length, in good old age, lead thee 
gently by the hand to enjoy the dignity of bashaw of three 

tails in the blissful bowers of Eden. 

Mustapha. 



FASHIONS. 

By Anthony Evergreen, Gent. 

ttfe following article is furnished me by a young lady of 
unquestionable taste, and who is the oracle of fashion 
and frippery, being deeply initiated into all the mys- 
teries of the toilet, she has promised me from time to 
time a similar detail. 

Mrs. Toole has for some time reigned unrivalled in the 
fashionable world, and had the supreme direction of caps, bon- 
nets, feathers, flowers, and tinsel. She has dressed and un- 
dressed our ladies just as she pleased; now loading them with 
velvet and wadding, now turning them adrift upon the world 
to run shivering through the streets with scarcely a covering 

to their backs ; and now obliging them to drag a long train 

at their heels, like the tail of a paper kite. Her despotic sway, 
however, threatens to be limited. A dangerous rival has 



SALMAGUNDI. 37 

sprung up in the person of Madame Bouchard, an intrepid 
little woman, fresh from the head- quarters of fashion and 
folly, and who has burst, like a second Bonaparte, upon the 
fashionable world. — Mrs. Toole, notwithstanding, seems de- 
termined to dispute her ground bravely for the honour of old 
England. The ladies have begun to arrange themselves under 
the banner of one or other of these heroines of the needle, and 
everything portends open war. Madame Bouchard marches 
gallantly to the field, flourishing a flaming red robe for a 
standard, " flouting the skies;" and Mrs. Toole, no ways dis- 
mayed, sallies out under cover of a forest of artificial flowers, 
like Malcolm's host. Both parties possess great merit, and 
both deserve the victory. Mrs. Toole charges the highest — but 
Madame Bouchard makes the lowest courtesy. Madame 
Bouchard is a little short lady — nor is there any hope of her 
growing larger; but then she is perfectly genteel, and so is 
Mrs. Toole. Mrs. Toole lives in Broadway, and Madame 
Bouchard in Courtlandt-street ; but Madame atones for the in- 
feriority of her stand by making two courtesies to Mrs. Toole's 
one, and talking French like an angel. Mrs. Toole is the best 
looking — but Madame Bouchard wears a most bewitching little 
scrubby wig.— Mrs. Toole is the tallest — but Madame Bouchard 
has the longest nose. — Mrs. Toole is fond of roast beef— but 
Madame is loyal in her adherence to onions : in short, so equal- 
ly are the merits of the two ladies balanced, that there is no 
judging which will " kick the beam." It, however, seems to 
be the prevailing opinion that Madame Bouchard will carry 
the day, because she wears a wig, has a long nose, talks 
French, loves onions, and does not charge above ten times as 
much for a thing as it is worth. 



UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THESE HIGH PRIESTESSES OF THE 
BEAU-MONDE, THE FOLLOWING IS THE FASHIONABLE MORNING 
DRESS FOR WALKING. 

If the weather be very cold, a thin muslin gown, or frock, is 
most advisable ; because it agrees with the season, being per- 
fectly cool. The neck, arms, and particularly the elbows bare, 
in order that they may be agreeably painted and mottled by 
Mr. John Frost, nose-painter-general, of the colour of Castile 
soap. Shoes of kid, the thinnest that can possibly be procured 
— as they tend to promote colds, and make a lady look interest- 
ing- ~0'. e., grizzly.) Picnic silk stockings, with lace clocks, 



38 SALMAGUNDI. 

flesh-coloured are most fashionable, as they have the appear- 
ance of bare legs—nudity being all the rage. The stockings 
carelessly bespattered with mud, to agree with the gown, which 
should be bordered about three inches deep with the most fash- 
ionable coloured mud that can be found : the ladies permitted 
to hold up their trains, after they have swept two or three 

streets, in order to show the clocks of their stockings. The 

shawl, scarlet, crimson, flame, orange, salmon, or any other 
combustible or brimstone colour, thrown over one shoulder; 
like an Indian blanket, with one end dragging on the ground. 

N. B. If the ladies have not a red shawl at hand, a red petti- 
coat turned topsy-turvy, over the shoulders, would do just as 
well. This is called being dressed a la drabble. 

When the ladies do not go abroad of a morning, the usual 
chimney-corner dress is a dotted, spotted, striped, or cross- 
barred gown;— a yellowish, whitish, smokish, dirty-coloured 
shawl, and the hair curiously ornamented with little bits of 
newspapers, or pieces of a letter from a dear friend. This is 
called the "Cinderella-dress." 

The recipe for a full dress is as follows : take of spider-net, 
crape, satin, gymp, cat-gut, gauze, whale-bone, lace, bobbin, 
ribands, and artificial flowers, as much as will rig out the con- 
gregation of a village church ; to these, add as many spangles, 
beads, and gew-gaws, as would be sufficient to turn the heads 
of all the fashionable fair ones of Nootka-sound. Let Mrs. 
Toole or Madame Bouchard patch all these articles together, 
one upon another, dash them plentifully over with stars, 
bugles, and tiriiel, and they will altogether form a dress, 
which hung upon a lady's back, cannot fail cf supplying the 
place of beauty, youth, and grace, and of reminding the spec 
tator of that celebrated region of finery, called Bag Fair. 



One of the greatest sources of amusement incident to our 
humourous knight errantry, is to ramble about and hear the 
various conjectures of the town respecting our worships, whom 
every body pretends to know as well as Falstaff did Prince Hal 
at Gads-hill. We have sometimes seen a sapient, sleepy fellow, 
on being tickled with a straw, make a furious effort and fancy 
he had fairly caught a gnat in his grasp ; so, that many-headed 
monster, the public, who, with all its heads, is, we fear, sadly 
off for brains, has, after long hovering, come souse down, like 



SALMAGUNDI. 39 

a king-fisher, on the authors of Salmagundi, and caught them 
as certainly as the aforesaid honest fellow caught the gnat. 

Would that we were rich enough to give every one of our 
numerous readers a cent, as a reward for their ingenuity ! not 
that they have really conjectured within a thousand leagues of 
the truth, but that we consider it a great stretch of ingenuity 
even to have guessed wrong ; and that we hold ourselves much 
obliged to them for having taken the trouble to guess at all. 

One of the most tickling, dear, mischievous pleasures of this 
life is to laugh in one's sleeve— to sit snug in the corner, un- 
noticed and unknown, and hear the wise men of Gotham, who 
are profound judges of horse-flesh, pronounce, from the style 
of our work, who are the authors. This listening incog. , and 
receiving a hearty praise over another man's back, is a situa- 
tion so celestially whimsical, that we have done little else than 
laugh in our sleeve ever since our first number was published. 

The town has at length allayed the titilations of curiosity, 
by fixing on two young gentlemen of literary talents — that is 
to say, they are equal to the composition of a newspaper squib, 
a hodge podge criticism, or some such trifle, and may occasion- 
ally raise a smile by their effusions ; but pardon us, sweet sirs, 
if we modestly doubt your capability of supporting the burthen 
of Salmagundi, or of keeping up a laugh for a whole fortnight, 
as we have done, and intend to do, until the whole town 
becomes a community of laughing philosophers like ourselves. 
We have no intention, however, of undervaluing the abilities 
of these two young men, whom we verily believe, according to 
common acceptation, young men of promise. 

Were we ill-natured, we might publish something that 
would get our representatives into difficulties; but far be it 
from us to do anything to the injury of persons to whom we 
are under such obligations. 

While they stand before us, we, like little Teucer, behind the 
sevenfold shield of Ajax, can launch unseen our sportive 
arrows, which we trust will never inflict a wound, unless like 
his they fly " heaven directed," to some conscious-struck 
bosom. 

Another marvellous great source of pleasure to us, is the 
abuse our work has received from several wooden gentlemen, 
whose censures we covet more than ever we did any thing in 
our lives. The moment we declared open war against folly 
and stupidness, we expected no quarter ; and to provoke a con- 
federacy of all the blockheads in town. For it is one of our 



40 SALMAGUNDI 

indisputable facts that so sure as you catch a gander by the 
tail, the whole flock, geese, goslings, one and all, havv. a fellow- 
feeling on the occasion, and begin to cackle and hiss like so many 
devils bewitched. As we have a profound respect for these 
ancient and respectable birds, on the score of their once having 
saved the capitoi, we hereby declare that we mean no offence 
to the aforesaid confederacy. We have heard in our walks 
such criticisms on Salmagundi, as almost induced a belief that 
folly had here, as in the east, her moments of inspired idiot- 
ism. Every silly royster has, as il by an instinctive sense of 
anticipated danger, joined in the cry; and condemned us 
without mercy. All is thus as it should be. It would have 
mortified us very sensibly, had we been disappointed in this 
particular, as we should have been apprehensive that our 
shafts had fallen to the ground, innocent of the " blood or 
brains" of a single numbskull. Our efforts have been crowned 
with wonderful success. All the queer fish, the grubs, the 
flats, the noddies, and the live oak and timber gentlemen, are 
pointing their empty guns at us ; and we are threatened with a 
most puissant confederacy of the " pigmies and cranes," and 
other " light militia," backed by the heavy armed artillery of 
dullness and stupidity. The veriest dreams of our most san- 
guine moments are thus realized. We have no fear of the 
censures of the wise, the good, or the fair; for they will ever be 
sacred from our attacks. We reverence the wise, love the 
good, and adore the fair ; we declare ourselves champions in 
their cause;— in the cause of morality ;— and we throw our 
gauntlet to all the world besides. 

While we profess and feel the same indifference to public 
applause as at first, we most earnestly invite the attacks and 
censures of all the wooden warriors of this sensible city ; and 
especially of that distinguished and learned body, heretofore 
celebrated under the appellation of " the North-river society." 

The thrice valiant and renowned Don Quixote never made 
such work among the wool-clad warriors of Trapoban, or the 
puppets of the itinerant showman, as we promise to make 
among these fine fellows; and we pledge ourselves to the 
public in general, and the Albany skippers in particular, that 
the North river shall not be set on fire this winter at least, for 
we shall give the authors ?f that nefarious scheme, ample em- 
ployment for some time to come. 



SALMAGUNDI. \\ 



PROCLAMATION, 

FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. 

To all the young belles who enliven our scene, 
From ripe five-and-f orty, to blooming fifteen ; 
Who racket at routs, and who rattle at plays, 
Who visit, and fidget, and dance out their days: 
Who conquer all hearts, with a shot from the eye, 
Who freeze with a frown, and who thaw with a sigh: — 
To all those bright youths who embellish the age, 
Whether young boys, or old boys, or numskull or sage : 
Whether dull dogs, who cringe at their mistress' feet, 
Who sigh and who whine, and who try to look sweet; 
Whether tough dogs, who squat down stock still in a row 
And play wooden gentlemen stuck up for a show ; 
Or sad dogs, who glory in running their rigs, 
Now dash in their sleighs, and now whirl in their gigs 5 
Who riot at Dycle's on imperial champaign, 
And then scour our city — the peace to maintain : 

To whoe'er it concerns or may happen to meet, 
By these presents their worships I lovingly greet. 
Now know ye, that I, Pindar Cockloft, esquire, 
Am laureate, appointed at special desire ; — 
A censor, seif-dubb'd, to admonish the fair, 
And tenderly take the town under my care. 

I'm a ci-devant beau, cousin Launcelot has said- -• 
A remnant of habits long vanished and dead : 
But still, though my heart dwells with rapture sublime, 
On the fashions and customs whieb, reign'd in my prime 9 
I yet can perceive— and still candidly praise, 
Some maxims and manners of these ' ; latter days ; " 
Still own that some wisdom and beauty appears, 
Though almost entomb'd in the rubbish of years. 

No fierce nor tyrannical cynic am I } 
Who frown on each foible I chance to espy ; 
Who pounce on a novelty, just like a kite, 
And tear up a victim through malice or spite : 
Who expose to the scoffs of an ill-natured crew 9 
A trembler for starting a whim that is new. 



42 SALMAGUNDI. 

No, no— I shall cautiously hold up my glass, 
To the sweet little blossoms who heedlessly pass ; 
My remarks not too pointed to wound or offend, 
Nor so vague as to miss their benevolent end : 
Each innocent fashion shall have its full sway ; 
New modes shall arise to astonish Broadway : 
Bed hats and red shawls still illumine the town, 
And each belle, like a bon-flre, blaze up and down. 
Fair spirits, who brighten the gloom of our days, 
Who cheer this dull scene with your heavenly rays, 
No mortal can love you. more firmly and true, 
From the crown of the head, to the sole of your shoe. 
I'm old fashioned, 'tis true, — but still runs in my heart 
That affectionate stream, to which youth gave the starfo, 
More calm in its current — yet potent in force ; 
Less ruffled by gales — but still stedfast in course. 
Though the lover, enrapturd, no longer appears,— 
'Tis the guide and the guardian enlighten'd by years,, 
All ripen'd, and mellow'd, and soften'd by time, 
The asperities polish'd which chafed in my prime ; 
I am fully prepared for that delicate end, 
The fair one's instructor, companion and friend. 
— And should I perceive you in fashion's gay dance ? 
Allured by the frippery mongers of France, 
Expose your weak frames to a chill wintry sky, 
To be nipp'd by its frosts, to be torn from the eye ; 
My soft admonitions shall fall on your ear — 
Shall whisper those parents to whom you are dear — 
Shall warn you of hazards you heedlessly run, 
And sing of those fair ones whom frost has undone ; 
Bright suns that would scarce on our horizon dawn, 
Ere shrouded from sight, they were early withdrawn \ 
Gay sylphs, who have floated in circles below, 
As pure in their souls, and as transient as snow ; 
Sweet roses, that bloom'd and decay 'd to my eye, 
And of forms that have flitted and pass'd to the sky. 
But as to those brainless pert bloods of our town, 
Those sprigs of the ton who run decency down ; 
Who lounge and who lout, and who booby about, 
No kuowledge within, and no manners without; 
Who stare at each beauty with insolent eyes ; 
Who rail at those morals their fathers would prize ; 



SALMAGUNDI. 



43 



Who are loud at the play— and who impiously dare 

To come in their cups to the routs of the fair ; 

I shall hold up my mirror, to let them survey 

The figures they cut as they dash it away : 

Should my good-humoured verse no amendment produce 

Like scare-crows, at least, they shall still he of use ; 

I shall stitch them, in effigy, up in my rhyme, 

And hold them aloft through the progress of time, 

As figures of fun to make the folks laugh, 

Like that b h of an angel erected by Paff, 

4 * What shtops," as he says, " all de people what come; 
What smiles on deni all, and what peats on de tmm a " 



44 SALMAGUNDI 



NO. IV -TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1807. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

• 
Perhaps there is no class of men to which the curious and 
literary are more indebted than travellers ;— I mean travel- 
mongers, who write whole volumes about themselves, their 
horses and their servants, interspersed with anecdotes of inn- 
keepers,— droll sayings of stage-drivers, and interesting mem- 
oirs of — the Lord knows who. They will give you a tull 
account of a city, its manners, customs, and manufactures; 
though, perhaps, all their knowledge of it was obtained by a 
peep from their inn- windows, and an interesting conversation 
with the landlord or the waiter. America has had its share 
of these buzzards; and in the name of my countrymen I 
return them profound thanks for the compliments they have 
lavished upon us, and the variety of particulars concerning 
our own country, which we should never have discovered 
without their assistance. 

Influenced by sucn sentiments, I am delighted to find that 
the Cockloft family, among its other whimsical and monstrous 
productions, is about to be enriched with a genuine travel- 
writer. This is no less a personage than Mr. Jeremy Cock- 
loft, the only son and darling pride of my cousin, Mr. 
Christopher Cockloft. I should have said Jeremy Cockloft, 
the younger, as he so styles himself, by way of distinguishing 
him from II Signore Jeremy Cockloftico, a gouty old 
gentleman, who flourished about the time that Pliny the elder 
was smoked to death with the fire and brimstone of Vesuvius ; 
and whose travels, if he ever wrote any, are now lost for ever 
to the vv^orld. Jeremy is at present in his one-and-twentieth 
year, and a young fellow of wonderful quick parts, if you 
will trust to the word of his father, who, having begotten him, 
should be the best judge of the matter. He is the oracle of 



SALMAGUNDI. 45 

the family, dictates to his sisters on every occasion, though 
they are some dozen or more years older than himself: — and 
never did son give mother hetter advice than Jeremy. 

As old Cockloft was determined his son should be both a 
scholar and a gentleman, he took great pains with his educa- 
tion, which was completed at our university, where he became 
r exceedingly expert in quizzing his teachers and playing bil- 
liards. No student made better squibs and crackers to blow 
up the chemical professor; no one chalked more ludicrous 
caricatures on the walls c £ the college ; and none were more 
adroit in shaving pigs and climbing lightning-rods. He more- 
over learned all the letters of the Greek alphabet ; could demon- 
strate that water never u of its own accord" rose above the 
level of its source, and that air was certainly the principle of 
life ; for he had been entertained with the humane experiment 
of a cat worried to death in an air-pump. He once shook 
down the ash-house, by an artificial earthquake; and nearly 
blew his sister Barbara, and her cat, out of the window with 
thundering powder. He likewise boasts exceedingly of being 
thoroughly acquainted with the composition of Lacedemonian 
black broth ; and once made a pot of it, which had well-nigh 
poisoned the whole family, and actually threw the cook-maid 
into convulsions. But above all, he values himself upon his 
logic, has the old college conundrum of the cat with three tails 
at his finger's ends, and often hampers his father with his syl- 
logisms, to the great delight of the old gentleman ; who con- 
siders the major, minor, and conclusions, as almost equal in 
argument to the pulley, the wedge, and the lever, in mechanics. 
In fact, my cousin Cockloft was once nearly annihilated with 
astonishment, on hearing Jeremy trace his derivation of Mango 
from Jeremiah King ; — as Jeremiah King, Jerry King ! Jerkin 
Girkin ! cucumber, Mango ! in short, had Jeremy been a student 
at Oxford or Cambridge, he would, in all probability, have been 
promoted to the dignity of a senior wrangler. By this sketch, I 
mean no disparagement to the abilities of other students of our 
college, for I have no doubt that every commencement ushers 
into society luminaries full as brilliant as Jeremy Cockloft the 
younger. 

Having made a very pretty speech on graduating, to a numer- 
ous assemblage of old folks and young ladies, who all declared 
that he was a very fine young man, and made very handsome 
gestures, Jeremy was seized with a great desire to see, or rather 
to be seen by the world ; and as his father was anxious to give 



46 SALMAGUNDI. 

him every possible advantage, it was determined Jeremy should 
visit foreign parts. In consequence of this resolution, he haS 
spent a matter of three or four months in visiting strange 
places ; and in the course of his travels has tarried some few- 
days at the splendid metropolis' of Albany and Philadelphia. 

Jeremy has travelled as every modern man of sense should 
do; that is, he judges of things by the sample next at hand; if 
he has ever any doubt on a subject, always decides against the 
city where he happens to sojourn; and invariably takes home, 
as the standard by which to direct his judgment. 

Going into his room the other day, when he happened to be 
absent, I found a manuscript volume lying on his table ; and 
was overjoyed to find it contained notes and hints for a book 
of travels which he intends publishing. He seems to have 
taken a late fashionable travel-monger for his model, and I 
have no doubt his work will be equally instructive and amusing 
with that of his prototype. The following are some extracts, 
which may not prove uninteresting to my readers. 



MEMORANDUMS FOE A TOUR, TO BE ENTITLED "THE 
STRANGER IN NEW JERSEY; OR, COCKNEY TRAVEL- 
LING." 

BY JEREMY COCKLOFT, THE YOUNGER. 

Chapter I. 

The man in the moon *— preparations for departure—hints to 
travellers about packing their trunks t— straps, buckles, and 
bed-cords— case of pistols, a la cockney— -five trunks— three 
bandboxes— a cocked hat— and a medicine chest, a la Francaise 
—parting advice of my two sistcio— quere, why old maids are 
so particular in their cautions against naughty women—descrip- 
tion of Powles-Hook ferry-boats— might be converted into gun- 
boats, and defend our port equally well with Albany sloops— 
Brom, the black ferryman— Charon — river Styx— ghosts ;— 
major Hunt— good story— ferryage nine-pence ;— city of Harsi- 
mus— built on the spot where the folk once danced on their 
stumps, while the devil fiddled ;— quere, why do the Harsimites 



* vide Carr's Stransrer in Ireland. + vide Weld. 



SALMAGUNDI. 47 

talk Dutch? — story of the tower of Babel, and confusion of 
tongues— get into the stage — driver a wag—famous fellow for 
ruiining stage races— killed three passengers and crippled nine 
in the course of his practice — philosophical reasons why stage 
drivers love grog— causeway — ditch on each side for folk to 
tumble into— famous place for skilly-pots ; Philadelphians call 
'em tarapins — roast them under the ashes as we do potatoes— 
quere, may not this be the reason that the Philadelphians are 
ail turtle-heads ?— Hackensack bridge — good painting of a blue 
horse jumping over a mountain — wonder who it was painted 
by ;— mem. to ask the Baron cle Gusto about it on my return ; 
—Rattle-snake hill, so called from abounding with butterflies; 
—salt marsh, surmounted here and there by a solitary hay- 
stack ; — more tarapins— wonder why the Philadelphians don't 
establish a fishery here, and get a patent for it ;— bridge over 
the Passaic — rate of toll — description of toil-boards — toll man 
had but one eye — story how it is possible he may have lost the 
other — pence-table, etc.* 



Chapter II. 

Newark— noted for its fine breed of fat mosquitoes— sting 
through the thickest boot t— story about Gallynipers— Archer 
Gilford and his man Caliban— jolly fat fellows;— ai knowing 
traveller always judges of every tiling by the inn-keepers and 
waiters ; \ set down Newark people all fat as butter— learned 
dissertation on Archer Gilford's green coat, with philosophical 
reasons why the Newarkites wear red worsted night-caps, and 
turn their noses to the south when the wind blows— Newark 
academy full of windows — sunshine excellent to make little 
boys grow — Elizabeth-town— fine girls— vile mosquitoes— plenty 
of oysters— quere, have oysters any feeling ?— good story about 
the fox catching them by his tail — ergo, foxes might be of great 
use in the pearl-fishery ; —landlord member of the legislature- 
treats every body who has a vote — mem. , all the inn-keepers? 
members of legislature in New- Jersey ; Bridge-town, vulgarly 
called Spank-town, from a story of a quondam parson and his 
wife — real name, according to Linkum Pidelius, Bridge-town, 
from bridge, a contrivance to get dry shod over a river or 



* vide Carr. + vide Weld. 

% vide Carr. vide Moore, vide Weld, vide Parkinson, vide Priest, vide Linkum 
Fidelius, and vide Messrs. Tag, Rag, and Bobtail. 



48 8 ALMA G UNDL 

brook; and toivn, an appellation given in America to the acci- 
dental assemblage of a church, a tavern, and a blacksmith's 
shop— Linkum as right as my left leg;— Rahway-river— good 
place for gun-boats — wonder why Mr. Jefferson don't send a 
river fleet there to protect the hay- vessels ? — Woodbridge — land- 
lady mending her husband's breeches — sublime apostrophe to 
conjugal affection and the fair sex;* — Woodbridge famous for 
its crab-fishery — sentimental correspondence between a crab 
and a lobster — digression to Abelard and Eloisa; — mem., when 
the moon is in Pisces, she plays the devil with the crabs. 

Chapter III. 

Brunswick— oldest town in the state— division-line between 
two counties in the middle of the street;— posed a lawyer with 
the case of a man standing with one foot in each county — 
wanted to know in which he was clomicil — lawyer couldn't tell 
for the soul of him — mem., all the New- Jersey lawyers nums.; 
— Miss Hay's boarding-school — young ladies not allowed to eat 
mustard— and why? — fat story of a mustard-pot, with a good 
saying of Ding-Dong's ; — Vernon's tavern — fine place to sleep, 
if the noise would let you — another Caliban!— Vernon slew-eyed 
— people of Brunswick, of course, all squint ; — Drake's tavern 
— fine old blade — wears square buckles in his shoes — tells 
bloody long stories about last war — people, of course, all do the 
same ; Hook'em Snivy , the famous fortune-teller, born here — 
cotemporary with mother Shoulders — particulars of his his- 
tory — died one day — lines to his memory, ivhicti found their 
icay into my pocket book ; t — melancholy reflections on the 
death of great men — beautiful epitaph on myself. 

Chapter IV. 

Princeton— college— professors wear boots !— students fa- 
mous for their love of a jest— set the college on fire, and burnt 
out the professors; an excellent joke, but not worth repeating 
—mem., American students very much addicted to burning 
down colleges— reminds me of a good story, nothing at ail to 
the purpose — two societies in the college — good notion — en- 
courages emulation, and makes little boys fight; — students 
famous for their eating and erudition— saw two at the tavern, 

* vide The Sentimental Kotzebue. 
t vide Carr and Blind Bet ! 



SALMAGUNDI. 49 

who had just got their allowance of spending-money — laid it 

all out in a supper— got fuddled, and d d the professors for 

nincoms. N. B. Southern gentlemen — Church-yard— apos- 
trophe to grim death — saw a cow feeding on a grave— metem- 
psychosis — who knows but the cow may have been eating up 
the soul of one of my ancestors — made me melancholy and 
pensive for fifteen minutes; — man planting cabbages *— won- 
dered how he could plant them so straight— method of mole- 
catching — and all that— quere, whether it would not be a good 
notion to ring their noses as we do pigs — mem., to propose it to 
the American Agricultural Society — get a premium, perhaps ; 
- — commencement — students give a ball and supper — company 
from New- York, Philadelphia, and Albany— great contest 
which spoke the best English— Albanians vociferous in, their 
demand for sturgeon — Philadelphians gave the preference to 
racoon t and splacnuncs — gave them a long dissertation on the 
phlegmatic nature of a goose's gizzard — students can't dance — 
always set off with the wrong foot foremost — Duport's opinion 
on that subject — Sir Christopher Hatton the first man who 
ever turned out his toes in dancing — great favourite with 
Queen Bess on that account— Sir Walter Ealeigh — good story 
about his smoking — his descent into New Spain — El Dorado — 
Candid — Dr. Pangloss— Miss Cunegunde — earthquake at Lis- 
bon — Baron of Thundertentronck — Jesuits — Monks — Cardinal 
Woolsey — Pope Joan — Tom Jefferson— Tom Paine, and Tom 
the whew ! N.B.— Students got drunk as usual. 

Chapter V. 

Left Princeton— country finely diversified with sheep and 
hay-stacks \ — saw a man riding alone in a wagon ! why the 
deuce didn't the blockhead ride in a chair? fellow must be a 
fool— particular account of the construction of wagons — carts, 
wheelbarrows and quail-traps— saw a large flock of crows — 
concluded there must be a dead horse in the neighbourhood — 
mem. country remarkable for crows — won't let the horses die 
in peace — anecdote of a jury cf crows— stopped to give the 
horses water — good-looking man came up, and asked me if I 
had seen his wife? heavens! thought I, how strange it is that 
this virtuous man should ask me about his wife — story of Cain 
and Abel— stage-driver took a swig— mem. set down all the 

* vide Carr. t vide Priest. X vide Carr. 



50 SALMAGUNDI. 

people as drunkards— old house had moss on the top— swallows 
built in the roof— better place than old men's beards— story 
about that— derivation of words hippy, hippy, hippy and shoo- 
pig *— negro driver could not write his own name— languishing 
state of literature in this country ; t— philosophical inquiry of 
'Sbidlikens, why the Americans are so much inferior to the 
nobility of Cheapside and Shoreditch, and why they do not eat 
plum-pudding on Sundays ;— superfine reflections about any 
thing. 

Chapter VI. 

Trenton — built above the head of navigation to encourage 
commerce — capital of the State \ — only wants a castle, a bay, a 
mountain, a sea, and a volcano, to bear a strong resemblance 
to the Bay of Naples— supreme court sitting — fat chief justice — 
used to get asleep on the bench after dinner — gave judgment, 
I suppose, like Pilate's wife, from his dreams— reminded me of 
Justice Bridlegoose deciding by a throw of a die, and of the 
oracle of the holy bottle — attempted to kiss the chambermaid 
— boxed my ears till they rung like our theatre-bell — girl had 
lost one tooth— mem. all the American ladies prudes, and have 
bad teeth; — Anacreon Moore's opinion on the matter.— State- 
house — fine place to see the sturgeons jump up— quere, whether 
sturgeons jump up by an impulse of the tail, or whether they 
bounce up from the bottom by the elasticity of their noses— 
Linkum Fidelius of the latter opinion — I too — sturgeons' nose 
capital for tennis-balls— learnt that at school — went to a ball — 
negro wench principal musician ! — N.B. People of America have 
no fiddlers but females! — origin of the phrase, " fiddle of your 
heart" — reasons why men fiddle better than women; — expe- 
dient of the Amazons who were expert at the bow : — waiter at 
the city-tavern — good story of his — nothing to the purpose — 
never mind — fill up my book like Carr — make it sell. Saw a 
democrat get into the stage followed by his dog.§ N.B. This 
town remarkable for dogs and democrats — superfine sentiment || 
— good story from Joe Miller — ode to a piggin of butter— pen- 
sive meditations on a mouse-hole— make a book as clear as a 
whistle ! 



* vide Carr's learned derivation of gee and whoa. 
t Moore. \ Carr. § Moore. \ Carr. 



SALMAGUNDI. 51 



NO. V -SATURDAY, MARCH 7, 1807. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

The following letter of my friend Mustapha appears to have 
been written some time subsequent to the one already pub- 
lished. Were I to judge from its contents, I should suppose it 
was suggested by the splendid review of the twenty-fifth of 
last November ; when a pair of colours was presented at the 
City-Hall, to the regiments of artillery ; and when a huge din- 
ner was devoured, by our corporation, in the honourable re- 
membrance of the evacuation of this city. I am happy to find 
that the laudable spirit of military emulation which prevails 
in our city has attracted the attention of a stranger of Musta- 
pha's sagacity; by military emulation I mean that spirited 
rivalry in the size of a hat, the length of a feather, and the 
gingerbread finery of a sword belt. 

LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, 

TO ABDALLAH EB'N AL RAHAB, STJRNAMED THE SNORER, MILI- 
TARY SENTINEL AT THE GATE OF HIS HIGHNESS' PALACE. 

Thou hast heard, oh Abdallah, of the great magician, Muley 
Fuz, who could change a blooming land, blessed with all the 
elysian charms of hill and dale, of glade and grove, of fruit 
and flower, into a desert, frightful, solitary, and forlorn; — 
who with the wave of his wand could transform even the dis- 
ciples of Mahomet into grinning apes and chattering monkeys. 
Surely, thought I to myself this morning, the dreadful Muley 
has been exercising his infernal enchantments on these un- 
happy infidels. Listen, oh Abdallah, and wonder ! Last night 
I committed myself to tranquil slumber, encompassed with all 
the monotonous tokens of peace, and this morning I awoke 
enveloped in the noise, the bustle, the clangor, and the shouts 



52 SALMAGUNDI. 

of war. Every thing was changed as if by magic. An in> 
mense army had sprung up, like mushrooms, in a night ; and 
all the cobblers, tailors, and tinkers of the city had mounted 
the nodding plume ; had become, in the twinkling of an eye, 
helmetted heroes and war-worn veterans. 

Alarmed at the beating of drums, the braying of trumpets, 
and the shouting of the multitude, I dressed myself in haste, 
sallied forth, and followed a prodigious crowd of people to a 
place called the battery. This is so denominated, I am told, 
from having once been defended with formidable ivooden bul- 
warks which in the course of a hard winter were thriftily 
pulled to pieces by an economic corporation, to be distributed 
for fire-wood among the poor; this was done at the hint of a 
cunning old engineer, who assured them it was the only way 
in which their fortifications would ever be able to keep up a 
warm fire. Economic, my friend, is the watch-word of this 
nation ; I have been studying for a month past to divine its 
meaning, but truly am as much perplexed as ever. It is a 
kind of national starvation ; an experiment how many com- 
forts and necessaries the body politic can be deprived of before 
it perishes. It has already arrived to a lamentable degree of 
debility, and promises to share the fate of the Arabian philo- 
sopher, who proved that he could live without food, but un- 
fortunately died just as he had brought his experiment to 
perfection. 

On arriving at the battery, I found an immense army of six 
hundred men, drawn up in a true Mussulman crescent. At 
first I supposed this was in compliment to myself, but my 
interpreter informed me that it was done merely for want of 
room ; the corporation not being able to afford them sufficient 
to display in a straight line. As I expected a display of some 
grand evolutions, and military manoeuvres, I determined to 
remain a tranquil spectator, in hopes that I might possibly 
3ollect some hints which might be of service to his highness. 

This great body of men I perceived was under the command 
of a small bashaw, in yellow and gold, with white nodding 
plumes, and most formidable whiskers ; which, contrary to the 
Tripolitan fashion, were in the neighbourhood of his ears 
instead of his nose. He had two attendants called aid-de- 
camps, (or tails) being similar to a bashaw with two tails. 
The bashaw, though commander-in-chief, seemed to have little 
more to do than myself ; he was a spectator within the lines 
and I without : he was clear of the rabble and I was encom- 



SALMAGUNDI. 53 

passed by them; this was the only difference between us, 
except that he had the best opportunity of showing his clothes. 
I waited an hour or two with exemplary patience, expecting 
to see some grand military evolutions or a sham battle ex- 
hibited; but no such thing took place; the men stood stock 
still, supporting their arms, groaning under the fatigues of 
war, and now and then sending out a foraging party to levy 
contributions of beer and a favourite beverage which they 
denominate grog. As I perceived the crowd very active in 
examining the line, from one extreme to the other, and as I 
could see no other purpose for which these sunshine warriors 
should be exposed so long to the merciless attacks of wind and 
weather, I of course concluded that this must be the review. 

In about two hours the army was put in motion, and 
marched through some narrow streets, where the economic 
corporation had carefully provided a soft carpet of mud, to a 
magnificent castle of painted brick, decorated with grand 
pillars of pine boards. By the ardor which brightened in each 
countenance, I soon perceived that this castle was to undergo 
a vigorous attack. As the ordnance of the castle was perfectly 
silent, and as they had nothing but a straight street to advance 
through, they made their approaches with great courage and 
admirable regularity, until within about a hundred feet of the 
castle a pump opposed a formidable obstacle in their way, and 
put the whole army to a nonplus. The circumstance was sud- 
den and unlooked for ; the commanding officer ran over all the 
military tactics with which his head was crammed, but none 
offered any expedient for the present awful emergency. The 
pump maintained its post, and so did the commander; there 
was no knowing which was most at a stand. The command- 
ing officer ordered his men to wheel and take it in flank ;— the 
army accordingly wheeled and came full butt against it in the 
rear, exactly as they were before. — " Wheel to the left I" cried 
the officer; they did so, and again as before the inveterate 
pump intercepted their progress. ''Eight about face!" cried 
the officer ; the men obeyed, but bungled ; — they faced back to 
back. Upon this the bashaw with two tails, with great cool- 
ness, undauntedly ordered his men to push right forward, 
pell-mell, pump or no pump ; they gallantly obeyed ; after un- 
heard-of acts of bravery the pump was carried, without the 
loss of a man, and the army firmly entrenched itself under the 
very walls of the castle. The bashaw had then a council of 
war with his officers; the most vigorous measures were re* 



54 SALMAGUNDI. 

solved on. An advance guard of musicians were ordered to 
attack the castle without mercy. Then the whole band opened 
a most tremendous^ battery of drums, fifes, tambourines, and 
trumpets, and kept up a thundering assault, as if the castle, 
like the walls of Jericho, spoken of in the Jewish chronicles, 
would tumble down at the blowing of rams' horns. After 
some time a parley ensued. The grand bashaw of the city 
appeared on the battlements of the castle, and as far as I could 
understand from circumstances, dared the little bashaw of two 
tails to single combat ; — this thou knowest was in the style of 
ancient chivalry ;— the little bashaw dismounted with great 
intrepidity, and ascendel the battlements of the castle, where 
the great bashaw waited to receive him, attended by numerous 
dignitaries and worthies of his court, one of whom bore the 
splendid banners of the castle. The battle was carried on 
entirely by words, according to the universal custom of this 
country, of which I shall speak to thee more fully hereafter. 
The grand bashaw made a furious attack in a speech of con- 
siderable length; the little bashaw, by no means appalled, 
retorted with great spirit. The grand bashaw attempted to 
rip him up with an argument, or stun him with a solid fact ; 
but the little bashaw parried them both with admirable adroit- 
ness, and run him clean through and through with a syllogism. 
The grand bashaw was overthrown, the banners of the castle 
yielded up to the little bashaw, and the castle surrendered 
after a vigorous defence of three hours, — during which the 
besieger suffered great extremity from muddy streets and a 
drizzling atmosphere. 

On returning to dinner I soon discovered that as usual I had 
been indulging in a great mistake. The matter was all clearly 
explained to me by a fellow lodger, who on ordinary occasions 
moves in the humble character of a tailor, but in the present 
instance figured in a high military station denominated cor- 
poral. He informed me that what I had mistaken for a castle 
was the splendid palace of the municipality, and that the sup- 
posed attack was nothing more than the delivery of a flag 
given by the authorities, to the army, for its magnanimous de- 
fence of the town for upwards of twenty years past, that is, 
ever since the last war. Oh! my friend, surely everything in 

this country is on a great scale ! the conversation insensibly 

turned upon the military establishment of the nation ; and I do 
assure thee that my friend, the tailor, though being, according 
to a national proverb, but the ninth part of a man, yex acquit* 



SALMAGUNDI. 55 

ted himself on military concerns as ably as the grand bashaw 
of the empire himself. He observed that their rulers had de- 
cided that wars were very useless and expensive, and ill befit- 
ting an economic, philosophic nation ; they had therefore made 
up their minds never to have any wars, and consequently 
there was no need of soldiers or military discipline. As, how- 
ever, it was thought highly ornamental to a city to have a 
number of men drest in fine clothes and feathers, strutting 
about the streets on a holiday — and as the women and children 
were particularly fond of such raree shoivs, it was ordered that 
the tailors of the different cities throughout the empire should, 
forthwith, go to work, and cut out and manufacture soldiers, 
as fast as their shears and needles would permit. 

These soldiers have no pecuniary pay; and their only recom- 
pense for the immense services which they render their coun- 
try, in their voluntary parades, is the plunder of smiles, and 
winks, and nods which they extort from the ladies. As they 
have no opportunity, like the vagrant Arabs, of making in- 
roads on their neighbors; and as it is necessary to keep up 
their military spirit, the town is therefore now and then, but 
particularly on two days of the year, given up to their ravages. 
The arrangements are contrived with admirable address, so 
that every officer, from the bashaw down to the drum-major, 
the chief of the eunuchs, or musicians, shall have his share of 
that invaluable booty, the admiration of the fair. As to the 
soldiers, poor animals, they, like the privates in all great ar- 
mies, have to bear the brunt of danger and fatigue, while their 
officers receive all the glory and reward. The narrative of a 
parade day will exemplif y this more, clearly. 

The chief ^ashaw, in the plenitude of his authority, orders a 
grand review of the whole army at two o'clock. The bashaw 
with two tails, that he may have an opportunity of vapouring 
about as greatest man on the field, orders the army to assemble 
at twelve. The kiaya, or colonel, as he is called, that is, com- 
mander of one hundred and twenty men, orders his regiment 
or tribe to collect one mile at least from the place of parade at 
eleven. Each captain, or fag-rag as we term them, commands 
his squad to meet at ten at least a half mile from the regimen- 
tal parade ; and to close all, the chief of the eunuchs orders his 
infernal concert of fifes, trumpets, cymbals, and kettle-drums 
to assemble at ten! from that moment the city receives no 
quarter. All is noise, hooting, hubbub, and combustion. Every 
window, door, crack, and loop-hole, from the garret to the 



56 SALMAGUNDI. 

cellar, is crowded with the fascinating fair of all ages and of 
all complexions. The mistress smiles through the windows of 
the drawing-room; the chubby chambermaid lolls out of the 
attic casement, and a host of sooty wenches roll their white 
eyes and grin and chatter from the cellar door. Every nymph 
seems anxious to yield voluntarily that tribute which the 
heroes of their country demand. First struts the chief eu- 
nuch, or drum-major, at the head of his sable band, magnifi- 
cently arrayed in tarnished scarlet. Alexander himself could 
not have spurned the earth more superbly. A host of ragged 
boys shout in his train, and inflate the bosom of the warrior 
with tenfold self-complacency. After he has rattled his kettle- 
drums through the town, and swelled and swaggered like a 
turkey-cock before all the dingy Floras, and Dinahs, and Ju- 
noes, and Didoes of his acquaintance, he repairs to his place of 
destination loaded with a rich booty of smiles and approbation. 
Next comes the Fag-rag, or captain, at the head of his mighty 
band, consisting of one lieutenant, one ensign, or mute, four 
sergeants, four corporals, one drummer, one fifor, and if he 
has any privatas, so much the better for himself. In march- 
ing to the regimental parade he is sure to paddle through the 
street or lane which is honoured with the residence of his mis- 
tress or intended, whom he resolutely lays under a heavy con- 
tribution. Truly it is delectable to behold these heroes, as they 
march along, cast side glances at the upper windows; to col- 
lect the smiles, the nods, and the winks, which the enraptured 
fair ones lavish profusely on the magnanimous defenders of 
their country. 

The Fag-rags having conducted their squads to their respec- 
tive regiments, then comes the turn of the colonel, a bashaw 
with no tails, for all eyes are now directed to him ; and the fag- 
rags, and the eunuchs, and the kettle-drummers, having had 
their hour of notoriety, are confound and lost in the military 
crowd. The colonel sets his whole regiment in motion ; and, 
mounted on a mettlesome charger, frisks and fidgets, and 
capers, and plunges in front, to the great entertainment of the 
multitude and the great hazard of himself and his neighbours. 
Having displayed himself, his trappings, his horse, and his 
horsemanship, he at length arrives at the place of general 
rendezvous ; blessed with the universal admiration of his coun- 
try-women. I should perhaps mention a squadron of hardy 
veterans, most of whom have seen a deal of service during the 
nineteen or twenty years of their existence, and who, most 



SALMAGUNDI. 57 

gorgeously equipped in tight green jackets and breeches, trot 
and amble, and gallop and scamper like little devils through 
every street and nook and corner and poke-hole of the city, to 
the great dread of all old people and sage matrons with young 
children. This is truly sublime! this is what I call making a 
mountain out of a mole-hill. Oh, my friend, on what a great 
scale is every thing in this country. It is in the style of the 
wandering Arabs of the desert El-tih. Is a village to be at- 
tacked, or a hamlet to be plundered, the whole desert, for 
weeks beforehand, is in a buzz; — such marching and counter- 
marching, ere they can concentrate their ragged force ! and the 
consequence is, that before they can bring their troops into 
action, the whole enterprise is blown. 

The army being all happily collected on the battery, though, 
perhaps, two hours after the time appointed, it is now tne turn 
of the bashaw, with two tails, to distinguish himself. Ambi- 
tion, my friend, is implanted alike in every heart ; it pervades 
each bosom, from the bashaw to the drum-major. This is a 
sage truism, and I trust, therefore; it will not be disputed. 
The bashaw, fired with that thirst for glory, inseparable from 
the noble mind, is anxious to reap a full share of the laurels of 
the day and bear off his portion of female plunder. The drums 
beat, the fifes whistle, the standards wave proudly in the air. 
The signal is given ! thunder roars the cannon ! away goes the 
bashaw, and away go the tails! The review finished, evolu- 
tions and military manoeuvres are generally dispensed with for 
three excellent reasons; first, because the army knows very 
little about them ; second, because as the country has deter- 
mined to remain always at peace, there is no necessity for 
them to know any thing about them ; and third, as it is grow- 
ing late, the bashaw must despatch, or it will be too dark 
for him to get his quota of the plunder. He of course orders 
the whole army to march: and now, my friend, now come 
the tug of war, now is the city completely sacked. Open fly 
the battery-gates, forth sallies the bashaw with his two tails, 
surrounded by a shouting body-guard of boys and negroes! 
then pour forth his legions, potent as the pismires of the 
desert ! the customary salutations of the country commence— 
those tokens of joy and admiration which so much annoyed 
me on first landing: the air is darkened with old hats, shoes, 
and dead cats ; they fly in showers like the arrows of the Par- 
thians. The soldiers, no ways disheartened, like the intrepid 
followers of Leonidas, march gallantly under their shade On 



58 SALMAGUNDI. 

they push, splash dash, mud or no mud. Down one lane, up 
another; — the martial music resounds through every street; 
the fair ones throng to their windows, — the soldiers look 
every way but straight forward. " Carry arms," cries the 
bashaw— 4 ' tanta ra-ra, ' ' brays the trumpet — ' ' rub-a-dub, ' ' 
roars the drum — " hurra w," shout the ragamuffins. The 
bashaw smiles with exultation — every fag-rag feels himself a 
hero— " none but the brave deserve the fair!" head of the im- 
mortal Amrou, on what % great scale is every thing in this 
country. 

Ay, but you'll say, is not this unfair that the officers should 
share all the sports while the privates undergo all the fatigue? 
truly, my friend, I indulged the same idea, and pitied from 
my heart the poor fellows who had to drabble through the 
mud and the mire, toiling under ponderous cocked hats, which 
seemed as unwieldy and cumbrous as the shell which the snail 
lumbers along on his back. I soon found out, however, that 
they have their quantum of notoriety. As soon as the army 
is dismissed, the city swarms with little scouting parties, who 
fire off their guns at every corner, to he great delight of all the 
women and children in their vicinity ; and wo unto any dog, 
or pig, or hog, that falls in the way of these magnanimous war- 
riors ; they are shown no quarter. Every gentle swain repairs 
to pass the evening at the feet of his dulcinea, to play u the 
soldier tired of war's alarms," and to captivate her with the 
glare of his regimentals ; excepting some ambitious heroes who 
strut to the theatre, flame away in the front boxes, and hector 
every old apple-woman in the lobbies. 

Such, my friend, is the gigantic genius of this nation, and 
its faculty of swelling up nothings into importance. Our 
bashaw of Tripoli will review his troops, of some thousands, 
by an early hour in the morning. Here a review of six hun- 
dred men is made the mighty work of a day ! with us a bashaw 
of two tails is never appointed to a command of less than ten 
thousand men; but here we behold every grade, from the 
bashaw down to the drum-major, in a force of less than one- 
tenth of the number. By the beard of Mahomet, but every 
thing here is indeed on a great scale ! 



SALMAGUNDI. 59 



BY AiNinONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

I was not a little surprised the other morning at a request 
from Will Wizard that I would accompany him that evening 

to Mrs. 's ball. The request was simple enough in itself, it 

was only singular as coming from Will ; — of all my acquaint- 
ance Wizard is the least calculated and disposed for the society 
of ladies— not that he dislikes their company ; on the contrary, 
like every man of pith and marrow, he is a professed admirer 
of the sex ; and had he been born a poet, would undoubtedly 
have bespattered and be-rhymed some hard-named goddess, 
until she became as famous as Petrarch's Laura, or Waller's 
Sacharissa ; but Will is such a confounded bungler at a bow, 
has so many odd bachelor habits, and finds it so troublesome 
to be gallant, that he generally prefers smoking his segar and 
telling his story among cronies of his own gender : — and thun- 
dering long stories they are, let me tell you ; — set Will once a 
going about China or Crim Tartary, or the Hottentots, and 
heaven help the poor victim who has to endure his prolixity ; 
he might better be tied to the tail of a jack-o'-lantern. In one 
word — Will talks like a traveller. Being well acquainted with 
his character, I was the more alarmed at his inclination to 
visit a party ; since he has often assured me, that he considered 
it as equivalent to being stuck up for three hours in a steam- 
engine. I even wondered -how he had received an invitation ; — 
this he soon accounted for. It seems Will, on his last arrival 
from Canton, had made a present of a case of tea to a lady for 
whom he had once entertained a sneaking kindness when at 
grammar school ; and she in return had invited him to come 
and drink some of it ; a cheap way enough of paying off little 
obligations. I readily acceded to Will's proposition, expecting 
much entertainment from his eccentric remarks; and as he 
has been absent some few years, I anticipated his surprise at 
the splendour and elegance of a modern rout. 

On calling for Will in the evening, I found him full dressed, 
waiting for me. I contemplated him with absolute dismay. 
As he still retained a spark of regard for the lady who once 
reigned in his affections, he had been at unusual pains in 
decorating his person, and broke upon my sight arrayed in the 
the true style that prevailed among our beaux some years 
ago. His hair was turned up and tufted at the top, frizzled 



60 SALMAGUNDI. 

out at the ears, a profusion of powder puffed over the whole, 
and a long plaited club swung gracefully from shoulder to 
shoulder, describing a pleasing semicircle of powder and poma- 
tum. His claret-coloured coat was decorated with a profusion 
of gilt buttons, and reached to his calves. His white casimere 
small-clothes were so tight that he seemed to have grown up 
in them ; and his ponderous legs, which are the thickest part 
of his body, were beautifully clothed in sky-blue silk stock- 
ings, once considered so becoming. But above all, he prided 
himself upon his waistcoat of China silk, which might almost 
have served a good housewife for a shortgown; and he 
boasted that the roses and tulips upon it were the work of 
Nang Foil, daughter of the great Chin-Chin-Fou, who had 
fallen in love with the graces of his person, and sent it to him 
as a parting present; he assured me she was a remarkable 
beauty, with sweet obliquity of eyes, and a foot no larger 
than the thumb of an alderman ;— he then dilated most 
copiously on his silver-sprigged dickey, which he assured me 
was quite the rage among the dashing young mandarins of 
Canton. 

I hold it an ill-natured office to put any man out of conceit 
with himself ; so, though I would willingly have made a little 
alteration in my friend Wizard's picturesque costume, yet I 
politely complimented him on his rakish appearance. 

On entering the room I kept a good look-out on Will, ex- 
pecting to see him exhibit signs of surprise ; but he is one of 
those knowing fellows who are never surprised at any thing, 
or at least will never acknowledge it. He took his stand in 
the middle of the floor, playing with his great steel watch- 
chain ; and looking around on the company, the furniture, and 

the pictures, with the air of a man " who had seen d d finer 

things in his time ;" and to my utter confusion and dismay, I 
saw him coolly pull out his villainous old japanned tobacco- 
box, ornamented with a bottle, a pipe, and a scurvy motto, 
and help himself to a quid in face of all the company. 

I knew it was all in vain to find fault with a fellow of Will's 
socratic turn, who is never to be put out of humour with him- 
self ; so, after he had given his box its prescriptive rap and 
returned it to his pocket, I drew him into a corner where he 
might observe the company without being prominent objects 
ourselves. 

"And pray who is that stylish figure," said Will, "who 
blazes away in red, like a volcano, and who seems wrapped in 



, SALMAGUNDI. 61 

flames like a fiery dragon?"— That, cried I, is Miss Laurelia 
Dashaway; — she is the highest flash of the ton— has much 
whim and more eccentricity, and has reduced many an un- 
happy gentleman to stupidity by her charms; you see she 
holds out the red flag in token of " no quarter." " Then keep 
me safe out of the sphere of her attractions," cried Will. "I 
would not e'en come in contact with her train, lest it should 

scorch me like the tail of a comet. But who, I beg of you, 

is that amiable youth who is handing along a young lady, and 
at the same contemplating his sweet person in a mirror, as he 
passes?" His name, said I, is Billy Dimple; — he is a univer- 
sal smiler, and would travel from Dan to Beersheba and smile 
on every body as he passed. Dimple is a slave to the ladies — 
a hero at tea-parties, and is famous at the pironet and the 
pigeon- wing ; a fiddle-stick is his idol, and a dance his elysium. 
" A very pretty young gentleman, truly," cried Wizard; " he 
reminds me of a cotemporary beau at Hayti. You must know 
that the magnanimous Dessalines gave a great ball to his court 
one fine sultry summer's evening ; Dessy and me were great 
cronies; — hand and glove:— one of the most condescending 
great men I ever knew. Such a display of black and yellow 
beauties! such a show of Madras handkerchiefs, red beads, 
cock's-tails and peacock's feathers! — it was, as here, who 
should wear the highest top-knot, drag the longest tails, or 
exhibit the greatest variety of combs, colours and gew-gaws. 
In the middle of the rout, when all was buzz, slip-shod, clack, 
and perfume, who should enter but Tucky Squash! The 
yellow beauties blushed blue, and the black ones blushed as 
red as they could, with pleasure ; and there was a universal 
agitation of fans ; every eye brightened and whitened to see 
Tucky ; for he was the pride cf the court, the pink of courtesy, 
the mirror of fashion, the adoration of all the sable fair ones 
of Hayti. Such breadth of nose, such exuberance of lip ! his 
shins had the true cucumber curve ; his face in dancing shone 
like a kettle ; and, provided you kept to windward of him in 
summer, I do not known a sweeter youth in all Hayti than 
Tucky Squash. When he laughed, there appeared from ear 
to ear a chevaux-de-f rize of teeth, that rivalled the shark's in 
whiteness; he could whistle like a north-wester; play on a 
three-stringed fiddle like Apollo ; and as to- dancing, no Long- 
Island negro could shuffle you " double-trouble," or "hoe corn 
and dig potatoes" more scientifically :— in short, he was a 
second Lothario. And the dusky nymphs of Hayti, one and 



62 SALMAGUNDI. 

all, declared him a perpetual Adonis. Tucky walked about, 
whistling to himself, without regarding any body; and his 
nonchalance was irresistible." 

I found Will had got neck and heels into one of his travel- 
lers' stories ; and there is no knowing how far he would have 
run his parallel between Billy Dimple and Tucky Squash, had 
not the music struck up, from an adjoining apartment, and 
summoned the company to the dance. The sound seemed to 
have an inspiring effect on honest Will, and he procured the 
hand of an old acquaintance for a country dance. It hap- 
pened to be the fashionable one of u the Devil among the 
tailors," which is so vociferously demanded at every ball and 
assembly : and many a torn gown, and many an unfortunate 
toe did rue the dancing of that night; for Will, thundering 
down the dance like a coach and six, sometimes right, some- 
wrong; now running over half a score of little Frenchmen, 
and now making sad inroads into ladies' cobweb muslins and 
spangled tails. As every part of Will's body partook of the 
exertion, he shook from his capacious head such volumes of 
powder, that like pious Eneas on the first interview with 
Queen Dido, he might be said to have been enveloped in a 
cloud. Nor was Will's partner an insignificant figure in the 
scene ; she was a young lady of most voluminous proportions, 
that quivered at every skip; and being braced up in the 
fashionable style with whalebone, stay -tape, and buckram, 
looked like an apple-pudding tied in the middle ; or, taking her 
flaming dress into consideration, like a bed and bolsters rolled 
up in a suit of red curtains. The dance finished — I would 
gladly have taken Will off, but no ; — he was now in one of his 
happy moods, and there was no doing any thing with him. 
He insisted on my introducing him to Miss Sophy Sparkle, 
a young lady unrivalled for playful wit and innocent vivacity, 
and who, like a brilliant, adds lustre to the front of fashion. 
I accordingly presented him to her, and began a conversation 
in which, I thought, he might take a share; but no such 
thing. Will took his stand before her, straddling like a 
Colossus, with his hands in his pockets, and an air of the most 
profound attention; nor did he pretend to open his lips for 
some time, until, upon some lively sally of hers, he electrified 
the whole company with a most intolerable burst of laughter. 
What was to be done with such an incorrigible fellow?— to 
add to my distress, the first word he spoke was to tell Miss 
Sparkle that something she said reminded him of a circum- 



SALMAGUNDI. 



63 



stance that happened to him in China; — and at it he went, in 
the true traveller style— described the Chinese mode of eating 
rice with chop-sticks ;— entered into a long eulogium on the 
succulent qualities of boiled bird's nests; and I made my 
escape at the very moment when he was on the point of 
squatting down on the floor, to show how the little Chinese 
Joshes sit cross-legged. 



TO THE LADIES. 



FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. 

Though jogging down the hill of life, 
Without the comfort of a wife ; 
And though I ne'er a helpmate chose, 
To stock my house and mend my hose; 
With care my person to adorn, 
And spruce me up on Sunday morn; — 
Still do I love the gentle sex, 
And still with cares my brain perplex 
To keep the fair ones of the age 
Unsullied as the spotless page ; 
All pure, all simple, all refined, 
The sweetest solace of mankind. 

I hate the loose, insidious jest 
To beauty's modest ear addrest, 
And hold that frowns should never fail 
To check each smooth, but fulsome tale ; 
But he whose impious pen should dare 
Invade the morals of the fair; 
To taint that purity divine 
Which should each female heart enshrine ; 
Though soft his vicious strains should sweli 9 
As those which erst from Gabriel fell, 
Should yet be held aloft to shame, 
And foul dishonour shade his name. 
Judge, then, my friends, of my surprise, 
The ire that kindled in my eyes, 
When I relate, that t'other day 
I went a morning-call to pay, 



64 SALMAGUNDI. 

On two young nieces : just come down 

To take the polish of the town. 

By which I niean no more or less 

Than a la Francaise to undress ; 

To whirl the modest waltz' rounds, 

Taught by Duport for snug ten pounds. 

To thump and thunder through a song, 

Play fortes soft and dolce's strong ; 

Exhibit loud piano feats, 

Caught from that crotchet-hero, Meetzs 

To drive the rose-bloom f com the face, 

And fix the lily in its place ; 

To doff the white, and in its stead 

To bounce about in brazen red. 

While in the parlour I delay'd, 
Till they their persons had array'd, 
A dapper volume caught my eye, 
That on the window chanced to lie : 
A book's a friend — I always choose 
To turn its pages and peruse : — 
It proved those poems known to fame 
For praising every cyprian dame ; — 
The bantlings of a dapper youth, 
Renown'd for gratitude and truth : 
A little pest, hight Tommy Moore, 
Who hopp'd and skipp'd our country o'er- 
Who sipp'd our tea and lived on sops, 
Revell'd on syllabubs and slops, 
And when his brain, of cobweb fine, 
Was fuddled with five drops of wine, 
Would all his puny loves rehearse, 
And many a maid debauch — in verse. 
Surprised to meet in open view, 
A book of such lascivious hue, 
I chid my nieces— but they say, 
'Tis all the passion of the day ; — 
That many a fashionable belle 
Will with enraptured accents dwell 
On the sweet morceau she has found 
In this delicious, curst, compound! 

Soft do the tinkling numbers roll, 
And lure to vice the unthinking soul; 



SALMAGUNDI. 65 

They tempt by softest sounds away, 
They lead entranced the heart astray ; 
And Satan's doctrine sweetly sing, 
As with a seraph's heavenly string. 
Such sounds, so good, old Homer sung, 
Once warbled from the Syren's tongue ;- - 
Sweet melting tones were heard to pour 
Along Ausonia's sun-gilt shore ; 
Seductive strains in aether float, 
And every wild deceitful note 
That could the yielding heart assail, 
Were wafted on the breathing gale ; — 
And every gentle accent bland 
To tempt Ulysses to their strand. 
And can it be this book so base, 
Is laid on every window-case? 
Oh ! fair ones, if you will profane 
Those breasts where heaven itself should reign. 
And throw those pure recesses wide, 
Where peace and virtue should reside 
To let the holy pile admit 
A guest unhallowed and unfit ; 
Pray, like the frail ones of the night, 
Who hide their wanderings from the light, 
So let your errors secret be, 
And hide, at least, your fault from me : 
Seek some by corner to explore 
The smooth, polluted pages o'er: 
There drink the insidious poison in, 
There slyly nurse your souls for sin: 
And while that purity you blight 
Which stamps you messengers of light, 
And sap those mounds the gods bestow. 
To keep you spotless here below ; 
Still in compassion to our race, 
Who joy, not only in the face, 
But in that more exalted part, 
The sacred temple of the heart ; 
Oh ! hide for ever from our view, 
The fatal mischief you pursue : — 
Let men your praises still exalt, 
And none but angels mourn your fault. 



60 SALMAGUNDI. 



NO. VI.-FRIDAY MARCH 20, 1807o 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

The Cockloft family, of which I have made such frequent 
mention, is of great antiquity, if there be any truth in the 
genealogical tree which hangs up in my cousin's library. They 
trace their descent from a celebrated Roman knight, cousin to 
the progenitor of his majesty of Britain, who left his native 
country on occasion of some disgust ; and coming into Wales 
became a great favourite of prince Madoc, and accompanied 
that famous argonaut in the voyage which ended in the disv 
covery of this continent. Though a member of the family, 1 
have sometimes ventured to doubt the authenticity of this por- 
tion of their annals, to the great vexation of cousin Christopher: 
who is looked up to as the head of our house ; and who, though 
as orthodox as a bishop, would sooner give up the whole deca- 
logue than lop off a single limb of the family tree. From time 
immemorial, it has been the rule for the Cocklofts to marry 
one of their own name; and as they always bred like rabbits, 
the family has increased and multiplied like that of Adam and 
Eve. In truth, their number is almost incredible ; and you can 
hardly go into any part of the country without starting 
a warren of genuine Cocklofts. Every person of the least 
observation or experience must have observed that where 
this practice of marrying cousins and second cousins pre- 
vails in a family, every member in the course of a few gen- 
erations becomes queer, humourous, and original ; as much dis- 
tinguished from the common race of mongrels as if he was 
of a different species. This has happened in our family, 
and particularly in that branch of it of which Mr. Christopher 
Cockloft, or, to do him justice, Mr. Christopher Cockloft, Esq., 
is the head. Christopher is, in fact, the only married man of 
the name who resides in town •, his family is small, having lost 



SALMAGUNDI. 67 

most of his children when young, by the excessive care he took 
to bring them up like vegetables. This was one of his first 
whim-whams, and a confounded one it was, as his children 
might have told, had they not fallen victims to this experiment 
before they could talk. He had got from some quack philoso- 
pher or other a notion that there was a complete analogy be- 
tween children and plants, and that they ought to be both 
reared alike. Accordingly, he sprinkled them every morning 
with water, laid them out in the sun, as he did his geraniums; 
and if the season was remarkably dry, repeated tins wise ex- 
periment three or four times of a morning. The consequence 
was, the poor little souls died one after the other, except Jer- 
emy and his two sisters, who, to be sure, are a trio of as odd, 
runty, mummy-looking originals as ever Hogarth fancied in 
his most happy moments. Mrs. Cockloft, the larger if not the 
better half of my cousin, often remonstrated against this vege- 
table theory; and even brought the parson of the parish in 
which my cousin's country house is situated to her aid, but in 
vain: Christopher persisted, and attributed the failure of his 
plan to its not having been exactly conformed to. As I have 
mentioned Mrs. Cockloft, I may as well say a little more about 
her while I km in the humour. She is a lady of wonderful no- 
tability, a warm admirer of shining mahogany, clean hearths, 
and her husband; who she considers the wisest man in the 
world, bating Will Wizard and the parson of our parish ; the 
last of whom is her oracle on all occasions. She goes constant- 
ly to church every Sunday and Saints-day ; and insists upon it 
that no man is entitled to ascend a pulpit unless he has been 
ordained by a bishop ; nay, so far does she carry her orthodoxy, 
that all the argument in the world will never persuade her that 
a Presbyterian or Baptist, or even a Calvinist, has any possible 
chance of going to heaven. Above every thing else, however, 
she abhors paganism. Can scarcely refrain from laying vio- 
lent hands on a pantheon when she meets with it ; and was 
very nigh going into hysterics when my cousin insisted one of 
his boys should be christened after our laureate : because the 
parson of the parish had told her that Pindar was the name 
of a pagan writer, famous for his love of boxing matches, 
wrestling, and horse-racing. To sum up all her qualifications 
in the shortest possible way, Mrs. Cockloft is, in the true sense 
of the phrase, a good sort of woman ; and I often congratulate 
my cousin on possessing her. The rest of the family consists 
of Jeremy Cockloft the younger, who has already been men- 



68 SALMAGUNDI. 

tioned, and the two Miss Cocklofts, or rather the young ladies, 
as they have been called by the servants, time out of mind ; not 
that they are really young, the younger being somewhat on the 
shady side of thirty, but it has ever been the custom to call 
every member of the family young under fifty. In the south- 
east corner of the house, I hold quiet possession of an old- 
fashioned apartment, where myself and my elbow-chair are 
suffered to amuse ourselves undisturbed, save at meal times. 
This apartment old Cockloft has facetiously denominated 
cousin Launce's paradise ; and the good old gentleman has two 
or three favourite jokes about it, which are served up as reg- 
ularly as the standing family dish of beef -steaks and onions, 
which every day maintains its station at the foot of the table, 
in defiance of mutton, poultry, or even venison itself. 

Though the family is apparently small, yet, like most old es- 
tablishments of the kind, it does not want for honorary mem- 
bers. It is the city rendezvous of the Cocklofts ; and we are 
continually enlivened by the company of half a score of uncles, 
aunts, and cousins, in the fortieth remove, from all parts of 
the country, who profess a wonderful regard for cousin Chris- 
topher, and overwhelm every member of his household, down 
to the cook in the kitchen, with their attentions. We have for 
three weeks past been greeted with the company of two worthy 
old spinsters, who came down from the country to settle a law- 
suit. They have done little else but retail stories of their vil- 
lage neighbours, knit stockings, and take snuff all the time they 
have been here ; the whole family are bewildered with church- 
yard tales of sheeted ghosts, white horses without heads and 
with large goggle eyes in their buttocks ; and not one of the 
old servants dare budge an inch after dark without a numerous 
company at his heels. My cousin's visitors, however, always 
return his hospitality with due gratitude, and now and then re- 
mind him of their fraternal regard by a present of a pot of 
apple-sweetmeats or a barrel of sour cider at Christmas. Jere- 
my displays himself to great advantage among his country re- 
lations, who all think him a prodigy, and often stand astound- 
ed, in " gaping wonderment, " at his natural philosophy. He 
lately frightened a simple old uncle almost out of his wits, 
by giving it as his opinion that the earth would one day be 
scorched to ashes by the eccentric gambols of the famous 
comet, so much talked of; and positively asserted that this 
world revolved round the sun, and that the moon was certain- 
ly inhabited. 



SALMAGUNDI. 69 

The family mansion bears equal marks of antiquity with its 
inhabitants. As the Cocklofts are remarkable for their attach- 
ment to every thing that has remained long in the family, they 
are bigoted towards then* old edifice, and I dare say would 
sooner have it crumble about their ears than abandon it. The 
consequence is, it has been so patched up and repaired, that it 
has become as full of whims and oddities as its tenants ; re- 
quires to be nursed and humoured like a gouty old codger of 
an alderman, and reminds one of the famous ship in which a 
certain admiral circumnavigated the globe, which was so 
patched and timbered, in order to preserve so great a curi- 
osity, that at length not a particle of the original remained. 
Whenever the wind blows, the old mansion makes a most 
perilous groaning ; and every storm is sure to make a , day's 
work for the carpenter, who attends upon it as regularly as the 
family physician. This predilection for every thing that has 
been long hi the family shows itself in every particular. The 
domestics are all grown gray in the service of our house. We 
have a little, old, crusty, grey-headed negro, who has lived 
through two or three generations of the Cocklofts; and, of 
course, has become a personage of no little importance in the 
household. He calls all the family by their Christian names; 
tells long stories about how he dandled them on his knee when 
they were children ; and is a complete Cockloft chronicle for 
the last seventy years. The family carriage was made in the 
last French war, and the old horses were most indubitably 
foaled in Noah's ark ; resembling marvellously, in gravity of 
demeanour, those sober animals which may be seen any day 
of the year in the streets of Philadelphia, walking their snail's 
pace, a dozen in a row, and harmoniously jingling their bells. 
Whim- whams are the inheritance of the Cocklofts, and every 
member of the household is a humourist sui generis, from the 
master down to the footman. The very cats and dogs are hu- 
mourists ; and we have a little, runty scoundrel of a cur, who, 
whenever the church-bells ring, will run to the street-door, 
turn up his nose in the wind, and howl most piteously. Jere- 
my insists that this is owing to a peculiar delicacy in the or- 
ganization of his ears, and supports his position by many 
learned arguments which nobody can understand ; but I am of 
opinion that it is a mere Cockloft whim-wham, which the little 
cur indulges, being descended from a race of dogs which has 
flourished in the family ever since the time of my grandfather. 
A propensity to save every thing that bears the stamp of fani- 



70 SALMAGUNDI. 

ily antiquity, has accumulated an abundance of trumpery and 
rubbish with which the house is encumbered from the cellar to 
the garret ; and every room and closet, and corner is crammed 
with three-legged chairs, clocks without hands, swords without 
scabbards, cocked hats, broken candlesticks, and looking- 
glasses with frames carved into fantastic shapes of feathered 
sheep, wcolly birds, and other animals that have no name save 
in books of heraldry. The ponderous mahogany chairs in the 
parlour are of such unwieldy proportions that it is quite a seri- 
ous undertaking to gallant one of them across the room; and 
sometimes make a most equivocal noise when you set down in 
a hurry; the mantel-piece is decorated with little lacquered 
earthern shepherdesses ; some of which are without toes, and 
others without noses ; and the fire-place is garnished out with 
Dutch tiles, exhibiting a great variety of scripture pieces, which 
my good old soul of a cousin takes infinite delight in explain- 
ing. — Poor Jeremy hates them as he does poison; for while a 
yonker, he was obliged by his mother to learn the history of a 
tile every Sunday morning before she would permit him to 
join his playmates ; this was a terrible affair for Jeremy, who, 
by the time he had learned the last had forgotten the first, and 
was obliged to begin again. He assured me the other day, with 
a round college oath, that if the old house stood out till he in- 
herited it, he would have these tiles taken out and ground into 
powder, for the perfect hatred he bore them. 

My cousin Christopher enjoys unlimited authority in the 
mansion of his forefathers ; he is truly what may be termed 
a hearty old blade, has a florid, sunshine countenance; and if 
you will only praise his wine, and laugh at his long stories, 
himself and his house are heartily at your service. — The first 
condition is indeed easily complied with, for, to tell the truth, 
his wine is excellent ; but his stories, being not of the best, and 
often repeated, are apt to create a disposition to yawn ; being, 
in addition to their other qualities, most unreasonably long. 
His prolixity is the more afflicting to me, since I have all his 
stories by heart ; and when he enters upon one, it reminds me 
of Newark causeway, where the traveller sees the end at the 
distance of several miles. To the great misfortune of all his 
acquaintance, cousin Cockloft is blest with a most provoking- 
ly retentive memory ; and can give day and date, and name 
and age and circumstance, with the most unfeeling preci- 
sion. These, however, are but trivial foibles, forgotten, or 
remembered, only with a kind of tender, respectful pity, by 



SALMAGUNDI. 71 

those who know with what a rich redundant harvest of kind- 
ness and generosity his heart is stored. It would delight you 
to see with what social gladness he welcomes a visitor into his 
house ; and the poorest man that enters his door never leaves 
it without a cordial invitation to sit down and drink a glass of 
wine. By the honest farmers round his country-seat, he is 
looked up to with love and reverence ; they never pass him by 
without his inquiring after the welfare of their families, and 
receiving a cordial shake of his liberal hand. There are but 
two classes of people who are thrown out of the reach of his 
hospitality, and these are Frenchmen and democrats. The old 
gentleman considers it treason against the majesty of good 
breeding to speak to any visitor with his hat on ; but, the mo- 
ment a democrat enters his door, he forthwith bids his man 
Pompey bring his hat, puts it on his head, and salutes him 
with an appalling " well, sir, what do you want with me?" 

He has a profound contempt for Frenchmen, and firmly be- 
lieves, that they eat nothing but frogs and soup-maigre in 
their own country. This unluckly prejudice is partly owing 
to my great aunt, Pamela, having been many years ago, run 
away with by a French Count, who turned out to be the son 
of a generation of barbers;— and partly to a little vivid spark 
of toryism, which burns in a secret corner of his heart. He 
was a loyal subject of the crown, has hardly yet recovered the 
shock of independence ; and, though he does not care to own 
it, always does honour to his majesty's birth-day, by inviting 
a few cavaliers, like himself, to dinner ; and gracing his table 
with more than ordinary festivity. If by chance the revolu- 
tion is mentioned before him, my cousin shakes his head ; and 
you may see, if you take good note, a lurking smile of con- 
tempt in the corner of his eye, which marks a decided disap- 
probation of the sound. He once, in the fulness of his heart, 
observed to me that green peas were a month later than they 
were under the old government. But the most eccentric mani- 
festation of loyalty he ever gave, was making a voyage to Hali- 
fax for no other reason under heaven but to hear his Majesty 
prayed for in church, as he used to be here formerly. This he 
never could be brought fairly to acknowledge ; but it is a cer- 
tain fact, I assure you. It is not a little singular that a per- 
son, so much given to long story-telling as my cousin, should 
take a liking to another of the same character ; but so it is 
with the old gentleman : — his prime favourite and companion 
is Will Wizard, who is almost a member of the family ; and 



72 SALMAGUNDI. 

will sit before the fire, with his feet on the massy andirons, 
and smoke his segar, and screw his phiz, and spin away tre- 
mendous long stories of his travels, for a whole evening, to the 
great delight of the old gentleman and lady ; and especially of 
the young ladies, who, like Desdemona, do " seriously incline," 
and listen to him with innumerable "O dears," "is it possi- 
bles," " goody graciouses," and look upon him as a second Sin- 
bad the sailor. 

The Miss Cocklofts, whose pardon I crave for not having 
particularly introduced them before, are a pair of delectable 
damsels ; who, having purloined and locked up the family-Bible, 
pass for just what age they please to plead guilty to. Bar- 
bara, the eldest, has long since resigned the character of a 
belle, and adopted that staid, sober, demure, snuff -taking air be- 
coming her years and discretion. She is a good-natured soul, 
whom I never saw in a passion but once ; and that was occa- 
sioned by seeing an old favorite beau of hers, kiss the hand 
of a pretty blooming girl ; and, in truth, she only got angry 
because, as she very properly said, it was spoiling the child. 
Her lister Margery, or Maggie, as she is familiarly termed, 
seemed disposed to maintain her post as a belle, until a few 
months since; when accidently hearing a gentleman observe 
that she broke very fast, she suddenly left off going to the as- 
sembly, took a cat into high favour, and began to rail at the 
forward pertness of young misses. From that moment I set 
her down for an old maid; and so she is, "by the hand of my 
body." The young ladies are still visited by some half dozen 
of veteran beaux, who grew and flourished in the haut ton, 
when the Miss Cocklofts were quite children; but have been 
brushed rather rudely by the hand of time, who, to say the 
truth, can do almost any thing but make people young. They 
are, notwithstanding, still warm candidates for female favour; 
look venerably tender, and repeat over and over the same 
honeyed speeches and sugared sentiments to the little belles 
that they poured so profusely into the ears of their mothers. 
I beg leave here to give notice, that by this sketch, I mean no 
reflection on old bachelors; on the contrary, I hold that 
next to a fine lady, the ne phis ulfra, an old bachelor to be the 
most charming being upon earth; in as much as by living in 
"single blessedness," he of course does just as he pleases; and 
if he has any genius, must acquire a plentiful stock of whims, 
and oddities, and whalebone habits; without which I esteem a 
man to be mere beef without mustard ; good for nothing at all, 



SALMAGUNDI. 73 

but to run on errands for ladies, take boxes at the theatre, and 
act the part of a screen at tea-parties, or a walking-stick in 
the streets. I merely speak of these old boys who infest pub- 
lic walks, pounce upon ladies from every corner of the street, 
and worry and frisk and amble, and caper before, behind, and 
round about the fashionable belles, like old ponies in a pasture, 
striving to supply the absence of youthful whim and hilarity, 
by grimaces and grins, and artificial vivacity. I have some- 
times seen one of these "reverend youths" endeavoring to ele- 
vate his wintry passions into something like love, by basking 
in the sunshine of beauty; and it did remind me of an old 
moth attempting to fly through a pane of glass towards a 
light, without ever approaching near enough to warm itself, 
or scorch its wings. 

Never, I firmly believe, did there exist a family that went 
more by tangents than the Cocklofts. Every thing is gov- 
erned by whim; and if one member starts a new freak, away 
all the rest follow on like wild geese in a string. As the 
family, the servants, the horses, cats, and dogs, have all grown 
old together, they have accommodated themselves to each 
other's habits completely ; and though every body of them is 
full of odd points, angles, rhomboids, and ins and outs, yet, 
some how or other, they harmonize together like so many 
straight fines ; and it is truly a grateful and refreshing sight 
to see them agree so well. Should one, however, get out of 
tune, it is like a cracked fiddle : the whole concert is ajar ; you 
perceive a cloud over every brow in the house, and even the 
old chairs seem to creak affetuosso. If my cousin, as he is 
rather apt to do, betray any symptoras oi vexation or uneasi- 
ness, no matter about what, he is worried to death with in- 
quiries, which answer no other end but to demonstrate the 
good-will of the inquirer, and put him in a passion : for every 
body knows how provoking it is to be cut short in a fit of the 
blues, by an impertinent question about " what is the matter?'' 
when a man can't tell himself. I remember a few months ago 
the old gentleman came home in quite a squall ; kicked poor 
Caesar, the mastiff, out of his way, as he came through the 
hall ; threw his hat on the table with most violent emphasis, 
and pulling out his box, took three huge pinches of snuff, and 
threw a fourth into the cat's eyes as he sat purring his aston- 
ishment by the fire-side. This was enough to set the body 
politic going; Mrs. Cockloft began "my d earing" it as fast 
as tongue could move; the young ladies took each a stand 



74 SALMAGUNDI. 

at an elbow of his chair; — Jeremy marshalled in rear; — the 
servants came tumbling in ; the mastiff put up an inquiring 
nose ; — and even grimalkin, after he had cleaned his whiskers 
and finished sneezing, discovered indubitable signs of sym- 
pathy. After the most affectionate ^inquiries on all sides, it 
turned out that my cousin, in crossing the street, had got his 
silk stockings bespattered with mud by a coach, which it seems 
belonged to a dashing gentleman who had formerly supplied 
the family with hot rolls and muffins ! Mrs. Cockloft there- 
upon turned up her eyes, and the young ladies their noses; 
and it would have edified a whole congregation to hear the 
conversation which took place concerning the insolence of up- 
starts, and the vulgarity of would-be gentlemen and ladies, 
who strive to emerge from low life by dashing about in car- 
riages to pay a visit two doors of; giving parties to people who 
laugh at them, and cutting all their old friends. 



THEATRICS. 

BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

I went a few evenings since to the theatre accompanied by 
my friend Snivers, the cockney, who is a man deeply read in 
the history of Cinderella, Valentine and Orson, Blue Beard, 
and all those recondite works so necessary to enable a man to 
understand the modern drama. Snivers is one of those in- 
tolerable fellows who will n^ver be pleased with any thing 
until he has turned and twisted it divers ways, to see if it cor- 
responds with his notions of congruity ; and as he is none of 
the quickest in his ratiocinations, he will sometimes come out 
with his approbation, when every body else has forgotten the 
cause which excited it. Snivers is, moreover, a great critic, 
for he finds fault with every thing; this being what I under- 
stand by modern criticism. He, however, is pleased to ac- 
knowledge that our theatre is not so despicable, all things con- 
sidered ; and really thinks Cooper one of our best actors. The 
play was Othello, and to speak my mind freely, I think I 
have seen it performed much worse in my time. The actors, I 
firmly believe, did their best ; and whenever this is the case 
no man has a right to find fault with them, in my opinion. 



SALMAGUNDI. 75 

Little Rutherford, the Roscius of the Philadelphia theatre, 
looked as big as possible ; and what he wanted in size he made 
up in frowning. I like frowning in tragedy ; and if a man but 
keeps his forehead in proper wrinkle, talks big, and takes long 
strides on the stage, I always set him down as a great trage- 
dian ; and so does my friend Snivers. 

Before the first act was over, Snivers began to flourish his 
critical wooden sword like a harlequin. He first found fault 
with Cooper for not having made himself as black as a negro ; 
"for," said he, "that Othello was an arrant black, appears 
from several expressions of the play ; as, for instance, ' thick 
lips,' ' sooty bosom,' and a variety of others. I am inclined to 
think," continued he, "that Othello was an Egyptian by birth, 
from the circumstance of the handkerchief given to his mother 
by a native of that country ; and, if so, he certainly was as 
black as my hat : for Herodotus has told us, that the Egyptians 
had flat noses and frizzled hair; a clear proof that they were 
all negroes." He did not confine his strictures to this single 
error of the actor, but went on to run him down in toto. In 
this he was seconded by a red hot Philadelphian, who proved, 
by a string of most eloquent logical puns, that Fennel was un- 
questionably in every respect a better actor than Cooper. I 
knew it was vain to contend with them, since I recollected a 
most obstinate trial of skill these two great Boscii had last 
spring in Philadelphia. Cooper brandished his blood-stained 
dagger at die theatre — Fennel flourished his snuff-box and 
shook his wig at the Lyceum, and the unfortunate Philadel- 
phia^ were a long time at a loss to decide which deserved the 
pal^a. The literati were inclined to give it to Cooper, because 
his name was the most fruitful in puns, but then, on the other 
side, it ms contended that Fennel was the best Greek scholar. 
Scarcely was the town of Strasburgh in a greater hub-bub 
about the courteous stranger's nose ; and it was well that the 
doctors of the university did not get into the dispute, else it 
might have become a battle of folios. At length, after much 
excellent argument had been expended on both sides, recourse 
was had to Cocker's arithmetic and a carpenter's rule; the 
rival candidates were both measured by one of their most 
steady-handed critics, and by the most exact measurement it 
was proved that Mr. Fennel was the greater actor by three 
inches and a quarter. Since this demonstration of his inferior- 
ity, Cooper has never been able to hold up his head in Phila- 
delphia. 



76 SALMAGUNDI. 

In order to change a conversation in which my favourite 
suffered so much, I made some inquiries of the Philadeiphian, 
concerning the two heroes of his theatre, Wood and Cain ; but 
I had scarcely mentioned their names, when, whack ! he threw 
a whole handful of puns in my face; 'twas like a bowl of cold 
water. I turned on my heel, had recourse to my tobacco-box, 
and said no more about Wood and Cain ; nor will I ever more, 
if I can help it, mention their names in the presence of a Phiia- 
delphian. Would that they could leave off punning ! for I love 
every soul of them, with a cordial affection, warm as their 
own generous hearts, and boundless as their hospitality. 

During the performance, I kept an eye on the countenance 
of my friend, the cockney ; because having come all the way 
from England, and having seen Kemble once, on a visit which 
he made from the button manufactory to Lunnim, I thought 
his phiz might serve as a kind of thermometer to direct my 
manifestations of applause or disapprobation. I might as well 
have looked at the back-side of his head ; for I could not, with 
all my peering, perceive by his features that he was pleased 
with any thing -except himself. His hat was twitched a little 
on one side, as much as to say, " demme, I'm your sorts!" He 
was sucking the end of a little stick ; he was a " gemman" from 
head to foot ; but as to his face, there was no more expression 
in it than in the face of a Chinese lady on a teacup. On 
Cooper's giving one of his gunpowder explosions of passion, I 
exclaimed, " fine, very fine!" " Pardon me," said my friend 
Snivers, "this is damnable !— the gesture, my dear sir, only 
look at the gesture ! how horrible ! do you not observe that the 
actor slaps his forehead, whereas, the passion not having ar- 
rived at the proper height, he should only have slapped his — 
pocket-flap? — this figure of rhetoric is a most important stage 
trick, and the proper management of it is what peculiarly dis- 
tinguishes the great actor from the mere plodding mechanical 
buffoon. Different degrees of passion require different slaps, 
which we critics have reduced to a perfect manual, improving 
upon the principle adopted by Frederic of Prussia, by deciding 
that an actor, like a soldier, is a mere machine ; as thus — the 
actor, for a minor burst of passion merely slaps his pocket-hole ; 
good!— for a major burst, he slaps his breast; — very good! — 
but for a burst maximus, he whacks away at his forehead, like 
a brave fellow ; — this is excellent ! — nothing can be finer than an 
exit slapping the forehead from one end of the stage to the 
other." " Except," replied I, "one of those slaps on the breast, 



SALMAGUNDI. 77 

which I have sometimes admired in some of our fat heroes and 
heroines, which make their whole body shake and quiver like 
a pyramid of jelly." 

The Philadelphian had listened to this conversation with pro- 
found attention, and appeared delighted with Snivers' mechan- 
ical strictures ; 'twas natural enough in a man who chose an 
actor as he would a grenadier. He took the opportunity of a 
pause, to- enter into a long conversation with my friend ; and 
was receiving a prodigious fund of information concerning the 
true mode of emphasising conjunctions, shifting scenes, snuff- 
ing candles, and making thunder and lightning, better than you 
can get every day from the sky, as practised at the royal thea- 
tres ; when, as ill luck would have it, they happened to run 
their heads full butt against a new reading. Now this was "a 
stumper," as our friend Paddle would say; for the Philadel- 
phians are as inveterate new-reading hunters as the cockneys ; 
and, for aught I know, as well skilled in finding them out. The 
Philadelphian thereupon met the cockney on his own ground ; 
and at it they went, like two inveterate curs at a bone. Snivere 
quoted Theobald, Hanmer, and a host of learned commenta- 
tors, who have pinned themselves on the sleeve of Shakspeare's 
immortality, and made the old bard, like General Washington, 
in General Washington's life, a most diminutive figure in his 
own book;— his opponent chose Johnson for his bottle-holder, 
and thundered him forward like an elephant to bear down the 
ranks of the enemy. I was not long in discovering that these two 
precious judges had got hold of that unlucky passage of Shaks- 
peare which, like a straw, has tickled, and puzzled, and con- 
founded many a somniferous buzzard of past and present time. 
It was the celebrated wish of Desdemona, that heaven had 
made her such a man as Othello.— Snivers insisted, that " the 
gentle Desdemona" merely wished for such a man for a hus= 
band, which in all conscience was a modest wish enough, and 
very natural in a young lady who might possibly have had a 
predilection for flat noses; like a certain philosophical great 
man of our day. The Philadelphian contended with all the ve- 
hemence of a member of congress, moving the house to have 
" whereas," or " also," or "nevertheless," struck out of a bill, 
that the young lady wished heaven had made her a man in- 
stead of a woman, in order that she might have an opportunity 
of seeing the "anthropophagi, and the men whose heads do 
grow beneath their shoulders ;" which was a very natural 
wish, considering the curiosity of the sex. On being referred 



78 SALMAGUNDI 

to, I incontinently decided in favour of the honourable member 
who spoke last; inasmuch as I think it was a very foolish, and 
therefore very natural, wish for a young lady to make before 
a man she wished to marry. It was, moreover, an indication 
of the violent inclination she felt to wear the breeches, which 
was afterwards, in all probability, gratified, if we may judge 
from the title of " our captain's captain," given her by Cassio, 
a phrase which, in my opinion, indicates that Othello was, at 
that time, most ignominiously hen-pecked. I believe my argu- 
ment staggered Snivers himself, for he looked confoundedly 
queer, and said not another word on the subject. 

A little while after, at it he went again on another tack ; 
and began to find fault with Cooper's manner of dying:— 4 ' it 
was not natural," he said, for it had lately been demonstrated, 
by a learned doctor of physic, that when a man is mortally 
stabbed, he ought to take a flying leap of at least five feet, and 
drop down "dead as a salmon in a fishmonger's basket." — 
Whenever a man, in the predicament above mentioned, de- 
parted from this fundamental rule, by falling fiat down, like a 
log, and rolling about for two or three minutes, making 
speeches all the time, the said learned doctor maintained that 
it was owing to the waywardness of the human mind, which 
delighted in flying in the face of nature, and dying in defiance 
of all her established rules.— I replied, "for my part, I held 
that every man had a right of dying in whatever position he 
pleased; and that the mode of doing it depended altogether on 
the peculiar character of the person going to die. A Persian 
could not die in peace unless he had his face turned to the east ; 
— a Mahometan would always choose to have his towards 
Mecca; a Frenchman might prefer this mode of throwing a 
somerset; but Mynheer Van Brumblebottom, the Eoscius of 
Rotterdam, always chose to thunder down on his seat of 
honour whenever he received a mortal wound.— Being a man 
of ponderous dimensions, this had a most electrifying effect, 
for the whole theatre "shook like Olympus at the nod of 
Jove." The Philadelphian was immediately inspired with a 
pun, and swore that Mynheer must be great in a dying scene, 
since he knew how to make the most of his latter end. 

It is the inveterate cry of stage critics, that an actor does 
not perform the character naturally, if, by chance, he happens 
not to die exactly as they would have him. I think the exhi- 
bition of a play at Pekin would suit them exactly ; and I wish, 
with all my heart, they would go there and see one: nature is 



SALMAGUWDI. 79 

there imitated with the most scrupulous exactness in every tri- 
fling particular. Here an unhappy lady or gentleman, who 
happens unluckily to be poisoned or stabbed, is left on the 
stage to writhe and groan, and make faces at the audience, 
until the poet pleases they should die ; while the honest folks 
of the dramatis personal, bless their hearts ! all crowd round 
and yield most potent assistance, by crying and lamenting 
most vociferously! the audience, tender souls, pull out their 
white pocket handkerchiefs, w^ipe their eyes, blow their noses, 
and swear it is natural as life, while the poor actor is left to 
die without common Christian comfort. In China, on the con- 
trary, the first thing they do. is to run for the doctor and 
tchGoiic, or notary. The audience are entertained throughout 
the fifth act with a learned consultation of physicians, £jnd if 
the patient must die, he does it secimdum artem, and always is 
allowed time to make his will. The celebrated Chow-Chow 
was the completest hand I ever saw at killing himself; he al- 
ways carried under his robe a bladder of bull's blood, which, 
when he gave the mortal stab, spirted out, to the infinite de- 
light of the audience. Not that the ladies of China are more 
fond of the sight of blood than those of our own country ; on 
the contrary, they are remarkably sensitive in this particular; 
and we are told by the great Linkum Fidelius, that the beauti- 
ful Ninny Consequa, one of the ladies of the emperor's serag- 
lio, once fainted away on seeing a favourite slave's nose bleed; 
since which time refinement has been carried to such a pitch, 
that a buskined hero is not allowed to run himseK through the 
body in the face of the audience.— The immortal Chow-Chow, 
in conformity to this absurd prejudice, whenever he plays the 
part of Othello, which is reckoned his master-piece, always 
keeps a bold front, stabs himself slily behind, and is dead 
before any body suspects that he has given the mortal blow. 

P. S. Just as this was going to press, I was informed by 
Evergreen that Othello had not been performed here the Lord 
knows when; no matter, I am not the first that has criticised 
a play without seeing it, and this critique will answer for the 
last performance, if that was a dozen years ago. 



SO SALMAGUNDI. 



NO. VII.-SATURDAY, APRIL 4, 1807. 



LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI EAHN, 

TO ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL SLAVE-DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESS 
THE BASHAW OF TRIPOLI. 

I promised in a former letter, good Asem, that I would fur- 
nish thee with a few hints respecting the nature of the govern- 
ment by which I am held in durance. — Though my inquiries 
for that purpose have been industrious, yet I am not perfectly 
satisfied with their results; for thou mayest easily imagine 
that the vision of a captive is overshadowed by the mists of 
illusion and prejudice, and the horizon of his speculations must 
be limited indeed. I find that the people of this country are 
strangely at a loss to determine the nature and proper char- 
acter of their government. Even their dervises are extremely 
in the dark as to this particular, and are continually indulging 
in the most preposterous disquisitions on the subject: some 
have insisted that it savours of an aristocracy ; others main- 
tain that it is a pure democracy ; and a third set of theorists 
declare absolutely that it is nothing more nor less than a 
mobocracy. The latter, I must confess, though still wide in 
error, have come nearest to the truth. You of course must 
understand the meaning of these different words, as they 
are derived from the ancient Greek language, and bespeak 
loudly the verbal poverty of these poor infidels, who cannot 
utter a learned phrase without laying the dead languages 
under contribution. A man, my dear Asem, who talks good 
sense in his native tongue, is held in tolerable estimation in this 
country ; but a fool who clothes his feeble ideas in a foreign or 
antique garb, is bowed down to as a literary prodigy. While 
I conversed with these people in plain English, I was but little 
attended to ; but the moment I prosed away in Greek, every 
one looked up to me with veneration as an oracle. 



SALMAGUNDI. 81 

Although the dervises differ widely in the particulars above 
mentioned, yet they all agree in terming their government one 
of the most pacific in the known world. I cannot help pitying 
their ignorance, and smiling, at times, to see into what ridicu- 
lous errors those nations will wander who are unenlightened 
by the precepts of Mahomet, our divine prophet, and unin- 
structed by the five hundred and forty-nine books of wisdom 
of the immortal Ibrahim Hassan al Fusti. To call this nation 
pacific ! most preposterous ! it reminds me of the title assumed 
by the sheik of that murderous tribe of wild Arabs, that deso- 
late the valleys of Belsaden, who styles himself star of cour- 
tesy— beam OF THE MERCY-SEAT! 

The simple truth of the matter is, that these people are 
totally ignorant of their own true character ; for, according to 
the best of my observation, they are the most warlike, and, I 
must say, the most savage nation that I have as yet discovered 
among all the barbarians. They are not only at war, in their 
own way, with almost every nation on earth, but they are at 
the same time engaged in the most complicated knot of civil 
wars that ever infested any poor unhappy country on which 
Allah has denounced his malediction ! 

To let thee at once into a secret, which is unknown to these 
people themselves, their government is a pure unadulterated 
logocracy, or government of words. The whole nation does 
every thing viva voce, or by word of mouth; and in this 
manner is one of the most military nations in existence. Every 
man who has what is here called the gift of the gab, that is, a 
plentiful stock of verbosity, becomes a soldier outright ; and is 
forever in a militant state. The country is entirely defended 
vi et lingua; that is to say, by force of tongues. The account 
which I lately wrote to our friend, the snorer, respecting the 
immense army of six hundred men, makes nothing against 
this observation; that formidable body being kept up, as I 
have already observed, only to amuse their fair country- 
women by their splendid appearance and nodding plumes ; and 
are by way of distinction, denominated the • ' defenders of the 
fair." 

In a logocracy thou well knowest there is little or no occasion 
for fire-arms, or any such destructive weapons. Every offen- 
sive or defensive measure is enforced by wordy battle, and 
paper war ; he who has the longest tongue or readiest quill, is 
sure to gain the victory,— will carry horror, abuse, and ink- 
shed into the very trenches of the enemy ; and, without mercy 



82 SALMAGUNDI. 

or remorse, put men, women, and children to tne point of the— 
pen! 

There is still preserved in this country some remains of that 
gothic spirit of knight-errantry, which so much annoyed the 
faithful in the middle ages of the hegira. As, notwithstanding 
their martial disposition, they are a people much given to 
commerce and agriculture, and must, necessarily, at certain 
seasons be engaged in these employments, they have accommo- 
dated themselves by appointing knights, or constant warriors, 
incessant brawlers, similar to those who, in former ages, swore 
eternal enmity to the followers of our divine prophet. — These 
knights, denominated editors or slang-whangers, are ap- 
pointed in every town, village, and district, to carry on both 
foreign and internal warfare, and may be said to keep up a 
constant firing " in words." Oh, my friend, could you but 
witness the enormities sometimes committed by these tremen- 
dous slang- whangers, your very turban would rise with horror 
and astonishment. I have seen them extend their ravages even 
into the kitchens of their opponents, and annihilate the very 
cook with a blast ; and I do assure thee, I beheld one of these 
warriors attack a most venerable bashaw, and at one stroke of 
his pen lay him open from the waistband of his breeches to his 
chin! 

There has been a civil war carrying on with great violence 
for some time past, in consequence of a conspiracy among the 
higher classes, to dethrone his highness the present bashaw, 
and place another in his stead. I was mistaken when I for- 
merly asserted to thee that this dissatisfaction arose from his 
wearing red breeches. It is true the nation have long held 
that colour in great detestation, in consequence of a dispute 
they had some twenty years since with the barbarians of the 
British islands. The colour, however, is again rising into 
favour, as the ladies have transferred it to their heads from the 

bashaw's body. The true reason, I am told, is, that the 

bashaw absolutely refuses to believe in the deluge, and in the 
story of Balaam's ass ; — maintaining that this animal was never 
yet permitted to talk except in a genuine logocracy ; where, 
it is true, his voice may often be heard, and is listened to with 
reverence, as u the voice of the sovereign people." Nay, so far 
did he carry his obstinacy, that he absolutely invited a pro- 
fessed antediluvian from the Gallic empire, who illuminated 

the whole country with his principles and his nose. This 

was enough to set the nation in a blaze ; — every slang- whanger 



SALMAGUNDI. 83 

resorted to his tongue or his pen ; and for seven years have 
they carried on a most inhuman war, in which volumes of 
words have been expended, oceans of ink have been shed; 
nor has any mercy been shown to age, sex, or condition. Every 
day have these slang- whangers made furious attacks on each 
other, and upon their respective adherents : discharging their 
heavy artillery, consisting of large sheets loaded with scound= 
rel ! villain ! liar ! rascal ! numbskull ! nincompoop ! dunderhead ! 
wiseacre ! blockhead ! jackass ! and I do swear, by my beard, 
though I know thou wilt scarcely credit me, that in some of 
these skirmishes the grand bashaw himself has been wofully 
pelted ! yea, most ignominiously pelted !— and yet have these 
talking desperadoes escaped without the bastinado ! 

Every now and then a slang-whanger, who has a longer 
head, or rather a longer tongue than the rest, will elevate his 
piece and discharge a shot quite across the ocean, levelled at the 
head of the emperor of France, the king of England, or, wouldst 
thou believe it, oh! Asem, even at his sublime highness the 
bashaw of Tripoli ! these long pieces are loaded with single ball, 
or language, as tyrant ! usurper ! robber ! tiger ! monster ! and 
thou mayest well suppose they occasion great distress and dis- 
may in the camps of the enemy, and are marvellously annoy- 
ing to the crowned heads at which they are directed. The slang- 
whanger, though perhaps the mere champion of a village, having 
fired off his shot, struts about with great self-congratulation, 
chuckling at the prodigious bustle he must have occasioned, 
and seems to ask of every stranger, ' ' well, sir, what do they 
think of me in Europe?" * This is sufficient to show you the 
manner in which these bloody, or rather windy fellows fight ; 
it is the only mode allowable in a logocracy or government of 



NOTE, BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

* The sage Mustapha, when he wrote the above paragraph, had probably in his 
eye the following anecdote: related either by Linkura Fidelius, or Josephus Miller- 
ius. vulgarly called Joe Miller, of facetious memory. 

The captain of a slave- vessel, on his first landing on the coast of Guinea, observed, 
under a palm-tree, a negro chief, sitting most majestically on a stump ; while two 
women, with wooden spoons, were administering his favourite pottage of boiled 
rice; which, as his imperial majesty was a little greedy, would part of it escape the 
place of destination and run down his chin. The watchful attendants were partic- 
ularly careful to intercept these scapegrace particles, and return them to their 
proper port of entry. As the captain approached, in order to admire this curious 
exhibition of royalty, the great chief clapped his hands to his sides, and saluted his 
visitor with the following pompous question, " well, sir! what do they say of me in 
England ?" 



84 SALMAGUNDI. 

words. I would also observe that their civil wars have a 
thousand ramifications. 

While the fury of the battle rages in the metropolis, every 
little town and village has a distinct broil, growing like excres- 
cences out of the grand national altercation, or rather agitating 
within it, like those complicated pieces of mechanism where 
there is a " wheel within a wheel." 

But in nothing is the verbose nature of this government 
more evident than in its grand national divan, or congress, 
where the laws are framed; this is a blustering, windy 
assembly, where everything is carried by noise, tumult and 
debate ; for thou must know, that the members of this assem- 
bly do not meet together to find wisdom in the multitude of 
counsellors, but to wrangle, call each other hard names, and 
hear themselves talk. When the congress opens, the bashaw 
first sends them a long message, i.e., a huge mass of words — 
vox et preterea nihil, all meaning nothing ; because it only tells 
them what they perfectly know already. Then the whole 
assembly are thrown into a ferment, and have a long talk 
about the quantity of words that are to be returned in answer 
to this message ; and here arises many disputes about the cor- 
rection of "if so be's," and "how so ever's." A month, per- 
haps, is spent in thus determining the precise number of words 
the answer shall contain ; and then another, most probably, in 
concluding whether it shall be carried to the bashaw on foot, 
on horseback, or in coaches. Having settled this weighty 
matter, they next fall to work upon the message itself, and 
hold as much chattering over it as so many magpies over an 
addled egg. This done they divide the message into small 
portions, and deliver them into the hands of little juntoes of 
talkers, called committees: these juntoes have each a world of 
talking about their respective paragraphs, and return the 
results to the grand divan, which forthwith falls to and retalks 
the matter over more earnestly than ever. Now, after all, it is 
an even chance that the subject of this prodigious arguing, 
quarrelling, and talking, is an affair of no importance, and 
ends entirely in smoke. May it not then be said, the whole 
nation have been talking to no purpose? The people, in fact, 
seem to be somewhat conscious of this propensity to talk, by 
which they are characterized, and have a favourite proverb on 
the subject, viz. : " all talk and no cider;" this is particularly 
applied when their congress, or assembly of all the sage 



SA LMA G UNDL 85 

chatterers of the nation, have chattered through a whole 
session, in a time of great peril and momentous event, and 
have done nothing but exhibit the length of their tongues and 
the emptiness of their heads. This has been the case more 
than once, my friend; and to let thee into a secret, I have 
been told in confidence, that there have been absolutely several 
old women smuggled into congress from different parts of the 
empire ; who, having once got on the breeches, as thou mayest 
well imagine, have taken the lead in debate, and overwhelmed 
the whole assembly with their garrulity; for my part, as 
times go, I do not see why old women should not be as eligible 
to public councils as old men who possess their dispositions ; — 
they certainly are eminently possessed of the qualifications 
requisite to govern in a logocracy. 

Nothing, as I have repeatedly insisted, can be done in this 
country without talking ; but they take so long to talk over a 
measure, that by the time they have determined upon adopt- 
ing it, the period has elapsed which was proper for carry- 
it into effect. Unhappy nation!— thus torn to pieces by in- 
testine talks ! never, I fear, will it be restored to tranquillity 
and silence. Words are but breath ; breath is but air ; and air 
put into motion is nothing but wind. This vast empire, there- 
fore, may be compared to nothing more or less than a mighty 
windmill, and the orators, and the chatterers, and the slang- 
whangers, are the breezes that put it in motion ; unluckily, 
however, they are apt to blow different ways, and their blasts 
counteracting each other— the mill is perplexed, the wheels 
stand still, the grist" is unground, and the miller and his family 
starved. 

Every thing partakes of the windy nature of the govern- 
ment. In case of any domestic grievance, or an insult from a 
foreign foe, the people are all in a buzz ;— town-meetings are 
immediately held where the quidnuncs df the city repair, each 
like an atlas, with the cares of the whole nation upon his 
shoulders, each resolutely bent upon saving his country, and 
each swelling and strutting like a turkey-cock ; puffed up with 
words, and wind, and nonsense. After bustling, and buzzing, 
and bawling for some time ; and after each man has shown 
himself to be indubitably the greatest personage in the meeting, 
they pass a string of resolutions, i.e. words, which were pre- 
viously prepared for the purpose ; these resolutions, are whim- 
sically denominated the sense of the meeting, and are sent off 



86 SALMAGUNDI. 

for the instruction of the reigning bashaw, who receives them 
graciously, puts them into his red breeches pocket, forgets to 
read them — and so the matter ends. 

As to his highness, the present bashaw, who is at the very- 
top of the logocracy, never was a dignitary better qualified for 
his station. He is a man of superlative ventosity, and com- 
parable to nothing but a huge bladder of wind. He talks of 
vanquishing all opposition by the force of reason and philo- 
sophy ; throws his gauntlet at all the nations of the earth, and 
defies them to meet him— on the field of argument !— is the na- 
tional dignity insulted, a case in which his highness of Tripoli 

would immediately call forth his forces; the bashaw of 

America— utters a speech. Does a foreign invader molest the 
commerce in the very mouth of the harbours ; an insult which 
would induce his highness of Tripoli to order out his fleets ;— 
his highness of America— utters a speech. Are the free citizens 
of America dragged from on board the vessels of their country, 

and forcibly detained in the war ships of another power his 

highness— utters a speech. Is a peaceable citizen killed by the 
marauders of a foreign power, on the very shores of his coun- 
try his highness utters a speech. — Does an alarming in- 
surrection break out in a distant part of the empire his 

highness utters a speech !— nay, more, for here he shows his 
" energies; 1 '— he most intrepidly despatches a courier on horse- 
back and orders him to ride one hundred and twenty miles a 
day, with a most formidable army of proclamations, i.e. a 
collection of words, packed up in his saddle bags. He is in- 
structed to show no favour nor affection ; but to charge the 
thickest ranks of the enemy; and to specify and batter by 
words the conspiracy and the conspirators out of existence. 
Heavens, my friends, what a deal of blustering is here ! it re- 
minds me of a dunghill cock in a farm-yard, who, have accident- 
ally in his scratchings found a worm, immediately begins a 
most vociferous cackling; — calls around him his hen-hearted 
companions, who run chattering from all quarters to gobble up 
the poor little worm that happened to turn under his eye. Oh, 
Asem ! Asem ! on what a prodigious great scale is every thing 
in this country ! 

Thus, then, I conclude my observations. The infidel nations 
have each a separate characteristic trait, by which they may 
be distinguished from each other; — the Spaniards, for instance? 
may be said to sleep upon every affair of importance ;— the 
Italians to fiddle upon every thing;— the French to dance upon 



SALMAGUNDI. S7 

every thing;— the Germans to smoke upon every thing;— the 
British islanders to eat upon every thing;— and the windy sub- 
jects of the American logocracy to talk upon every thing. 

For ever thine, 

Mustapha. 



FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. 

How oft in musing mood my heart recalls, 
From grey-beard father Time's oblivious halls, 
The modes and maxims of my early day, 
Long in those dart recesses stow'd away : 
Drags once more to the cheerful realms of light ' 
Those buckram fashions, long since lost in night, 
And makes, like Endor's witch, once more to rise 
My grogram grandames to my raptured eyes ! 

Shades of my fathers ! in your pasteboard skirts, 
Your broidered waistcoats and your plaited shirts, 
Your formal bag- wigs — wide-extended cuffs, 
Your five-inch chitterlings and nine-inch ruffs ! 
Gods ! how ye strut, at times, in all your state, 
Amid the visions of my thoughtful pate ! 
I see ye move the solemn minuet o'er, 
The modest foot scarce rising from the floor; 
No thundering rigadoon with boisterous prance, 
No pigeon- wing disturb your contre-danse. 
But silent as the gentle Lethe's tide, 
Adown the festive maze ye peaceful glide ! 

Still in my mental eye each dame appears — 
Each modest beauty of departed years ; 
Close by mamma I see her stately march 
Or sit, in all the majesty of starch; — 
When for the dance a stranger seeks her hand, 
I see her doubting, hesitating, stand ; 
Yield to his claim with most fastidious grace, 
And sigh for her intended in his place ! 

Ah ! golden days ! when every gentle fair 
On sacred Sabbath conn'd with pious care 
Her holy Bible, or her prayer-book o'er, 
Or studied honest Bunyan's drowsy lore ; 
Travell'd with him the Pilgrim's Progress through, 
And storm'd the famous town of Man-soul too : 



88 SALMA G UNDL 

Beat Eye and Ear-gate up with thundering jar, 
And fought triumphant through the Holy War; 
Or if, perchance, to lighter works inclined, 
They sought with novels to relax the mind, 
'Twas GrRANDisoN's politely formal page 
Or Clelia or Pamela were the rage. 

No plays were then — theatrics were unknown— 
A learned pig— a dancing monkey shown — 
The feats of Punch — a cunning juggler's slight, 
Were sure to fill each bosom with delight. 
An honest, simple, humdrum race we were, 
Undazzled yet by fashion's wildering glare 
Our manners unreserved, devoid of guile, 
We knew not then the modern monster style: 
Style, that with pride each empty bosom swells, 
Puffs boys to manhood, little girls to belles. 

Scarce from the nursery freed, our gentle fair 
Are yielded to the dancing-master's care ; 
And e'er the head one mite of sense can gain, 
Are introduced 'mid folly's frippery train. 
A stranger's grasp no longer gives alarms, 
Our fair surrender to their very arms. 
And in the insidious waltz * will swim and twine 
And whirl and languish tenderly divine ! 



NOTES, BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

* [Waltz]. As many of the retired matrons of this city, unskilled in " gestic 
lore," are doubtless ignorant of the movements and figures of this modest exhibi- 
tion, I will endeavour to give some account of it. in order that they may learn what 
odd capers their daughters sometimes cut when from under their guardian wings. 

On a signal being given by the music, the gentleman seizes the lady round her 
waist; the lady, scorning to be outdone in courtesy, very politely takes the gentle. 
man round the neck, with one arm resting against his shoulder to prevent en- 
croachments. Away then they go, about, and about, and about "about what, 

Sir?' 1 about the room, Madam, to be sure. The whole economy of this dance 

consists in turning round and round the room in a certain measured step: and it is 
truly astonishing that this continued revolution does not set all their heads swimming 
like a top; but I have been positively assured that it only occasions a gentle sensa- 
tion which is marvellously agreeable. In the course of this circumnavigation, the 
dancers, in order to give the charm of variety, are continually changing their rela- 
tive situations: — -now the gentleman, meaning no harm in the world, I assure you 
Madam, carelessly flings his arm about the lady's neck, with an air of celestial im- 
pudence; and~anon, the lady, meaning as little harm as the gentleman, takes him 
round the waist with most ingenious modest languishment, to the great delight of 
numerous spectators and amateurs, who generally form a ring, as the mob do 
about a pair of amazons pulling caps, or a couple of fighting mastiffs. 

After continuing this divine interchange o* hands, arms, et cetera, for half an 



SALMAGUNDI. 89 

Oh, how I hate this loving, hugging, dance; 

This imp of Germany—- brought up in France : 

Nor can I see a niece its windings trace, 

But all the honest blood glows in my face. 

" Sad, sad refinement this," I often say, 

u >rj^ s mo d es ty indeed refined away! 

" Let France its whim, its sparkling wit supply, 

" The easy grace that captivates the eye; 

" But curse their waltz— their loose lascivious arts, 

" That smooth our manners, to corrupt our hearts!" \ 

Where now those books, from which in days of yore 

Our mothers gain'd their literary store? 

Alas ! stiff -skirted Grandison gives place 

To novels of a new and rakish race ; 

And honest Bunyan's pious dreaming lore, 

To the lascivious rhapsodies of Moore. 

And, last of all, behold the mimic stage, 
Its morals lend to polish off the age, 



hour or so, the lady begins to tire, and with " eyes upraised," in most bewitching 
languor petitions her partner for a little more support. This is always given with- 
out hesitation. The lady leans gently on his shoulder, their arms entwine in a 

thousand seducing, mischievous curves don't be alarmed, Madam closer and 

closer they approach each other, and in conclusion, the parties being overcome 
with ecstatic fatigue, the lady seems almost sinking into the gentleman's arms, and 

then "* Well, Sir, and what then?" lord, Madam, how should I know ! 

* My friend Pindar, and, in fact, our whole junto, has been accused of an un- 
reasonable hostility to the French nation: and I am informed by a Parisian corres- 
pondent, that our first number played the very devil in the court of St. Cloud. His 
imperial majesty got into a most outrageous passion, and being withal a waspish 
little gentleman, had nearly kicked his bosom friend, Talleyrand, out of the cabinet, 
in the paroxysms of his wrath. He insisted upon it that the nation was assailed in 
its most vital part; being, like Achilles, extremely sensitive to any attacks upon the 
heel. When my correspondent sent off his despatches, it was still in doubt what 
measures would be adopted; but it was strongly suspected that vehement repre- 
sentations would be made to our government. Willing, therefore, to save our exe- 
cutive from any embarrassment on the subject, and above all from the disagreeable 
alternative of sending an apology by the Hornet, we do assure Mr. Jefferson, that 
there is nothing further from our thoughts than the subversion of the Gallic empire, 
or any attack on the interests, tranquillity, or reputation of the nation at large, 
which we seriously declare possesses the highest rank in our estimation. Nothing 
less than the national welfare could have induced us to trouble ourselves with this 
explanation; and in the name of the junto. I once more declare, that when we toast 
a Frenchman, we merely mean one of these inconnua. who swarmed to this country, 
from the kitchens and barbers' shops of Nantz, Bordeaux, and Marseilles; played 
game of leap-frog at all our balls and assemblies:— set this unhappy town hopping 
mad;— and passed themselves off on our tender-hearted damsels for unfortunate 
noblemen — ruined in the revolution ! such only can wince at the lash, and accuse Us 
of severity; and we should be mortified in the extreme if they did not feel our well- 
intended castigation. 



90 SALMAGUNDI. 

With flimsy farce, a comedy miscall'd, 
Garnished with vulgar cant, and proverbs bald. 
With puns most puny, and a plenteous store 
Of smutty jokes, to catch a galley/ roar. 
Or see, more fatal, graced with evf ry art 
To charm and captivate the female heart, 
The false, " the gallant, gay Lothax'io," smiles,* 
And loudly boasts his base seductive wiles ; — 
Imglowing colours paints Calista's wrongs, 
And with voluptuous scenes the tale prolongs, 
When Cooper lends his fascinating powers, 
Decks vice itself in bright alluring flowers, 
Pleased with his manly grace, his youthful fire ? 
Our fair are lured the villain to admire ; 
While humbler virtue, like a stalking horse, 
Struts clumsily and croaks in honest Morse. 

Ah, hapless days ! when trials thus combined. 
In pleasing garb assail the female mind ; 
When every smooth insidious snare is spread 
To sap the morals and delude the head ! 
Not Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-nego, 
To prove their faith and virtue here below, 
Could more an angel's helping hand require 
To guide their steps uninjured through the fire, 
Where had but heaven its guardian aid denied, 
The holy trio in the proof had died. 
If, then, their manly vigour sought supplies 
From the bright stranger in celestial guise, 
Alas ! can we from feebler nature's claim, 
To brave seduction's ordeal, free from blame ; 
To pass through fire unhurt like golden ore, 
Though angel missions bless the earth no more ! 



* [Fair Penitent]. The story of this play, if told in its native language, would 
exhibit a scene of guilt and shame, which no modest ear could listen to without 
shrinking with disgust; but, arrayed as it is in all the splendour of harmonious, 
rich, and polished verse, it steals into the heart like some gay, luxurious, smooth- 
faced villain, and betrays it ins3nsibly to immorality and vice; our very sympathy 
is enlisted on the side of guilt; and the piety of Altamont, and the gentleness of 
iLavinia, are lost in the splendid debaucheries of the "gallant, gay Lothario," and 
the blustering, hollow repentance of the fair Calisto, whose sorrow reminds us 
of that of Pope's Heloise— " I mourn the lover, not lament the fault." Nothing is 
more easy than to banish such plays from the stage. Were our ladies, instead of 
crowding to see them again and again repeated, to discourage their exhibition by 
absence, the stage would soon be indeed the school of morality, and the number of 
"Fair Penitents," in all probability, diminished. 



SALMAGUNBL Q] 



NO. VIII.-SATURDAY, APRIL 18 1807. 



BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

" In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow, 
Thou'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow; 
Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen about thee, 
There is no living with thee— nor without thee." 

" Never, in the memory of the ofdest inhabitant, has there 
been known a more backward spring." This is the universal 
remark among the almanac quidnuncs and weather- wisacres 
of the day ; and I have heard it at least fifty-five times from 
old Mrs. Cockloft, who, poor woman, is one of those walking 
almanacs that foretell every snow, rain, or frost, by the shoot- 
ing of corns, a pain in the bones, or an "ugly stitch in the 
side." I do not recollect, in the whole course of my life, to 
have seen the month of March indulge in such untoward capers, 
caprices, and coquetries, as it has done this year: I might have 
forgiven these vagaries, had they not completely knocked up 
my friend Langstaff , whose f eelings are ever at the mercy of a 
weathercock, whose spirits sink and rise with the mercury of 
a barometer, and to whom an east wind is as obnoxious as a 
Sicilian sirocco. He was tempted some time since, by the fine- 
ness of the weather, to dress himself with more than ordinary 
care and take his morning stroll ; but before he had half fin- 
ished his peregrination, he was utterly discomfited, and driven 
home by a tremendous squall of wind, hail, rain, and snow ; 
or, as he testily termed it, " a most villainous congregation of 
vapors." 

This was too much for the patience of friend Launcelot ; he 
declared he would honour the weather no longer in its whim- 
whams; and, according to his immemorial custom on these 
occasions, retreated in high dudgeon to his elbow-chair to lie in 
of the spleen and rail at nature for being so fantastical: — " con- 
found the jade," be frequently exclaims, " what a pity nature 



92 SALMAGUNDI. 

had not been of the masculine instead of the feminine gender, 
the almanac makers might then have calculated with some de- 
gree of certainty." 

When Langstaff invests himself with the spleen, and gives 
audience to the blue devils from his elbow-chair, I would not 
advise any of his friends to come within gunshot of his citadel 
with the benevolent purpose of administering consolation or 
amusement : for he is then as crusty and crabbed as that famous 
coiner of false money, Diogenes himself. Indeed, his room is 
at such times inaccessible ; and old Pompey is the only soul 
that can gain admission, or ask a question with impunity ; the 
truth is, that on these occasions, there is not a straw's differ- 
ence between them, for Pompey is as grum and grim and cyni- 
cal as his master. 

Launceiot has now been above three weeks in this desolate 
situation, and has therefore had but little to do in our last 
number. As he could not be prevailed on to give any account 
of himself in our introduction, I will take the opportunity of 
his confinement}, while his back is turned, to give a slight 
sketch of his character ; — fertile in whim- whams and bachelor- 
isms, but rich in many of the sterling qualities of our nature. 
Annexed to this article, our readers will perceive a striking 
likeness of my friend, which was taken by that cunning rogue 
Will Wizard, who peeped through the key-hole and sketched 
it off as honest Launceiot sat by the fire, wrapped up in his 
flannel robe de chambre, and indulging in a mortal fit of the 
hyp. Now take my word for it, gentle reader, this is the most 
auspicious moment in which to touch off the phiz of a genuine 
humorist. 

Of the antiquity of the Langstaff family I can say but little ; 
except that I have no doubt it is equal to that of most families 
who have the privilege of making their own pedigree, without 
the impertinent interposition of a college of heralds. My 
friend Launceiot is not a man to blazon any thing ; but I have 
heard him talk with great complacency of his ancestor, Sir 
Eowland, who was a dashing buck in the days of Hardiknute, 
and broke the head of a gigantic Dane, at a game of quarter- 
staff, in presence of the whole court. In memory of this gal- 
lant exploit, Sir Eowland was permitted to take the name of 
Langstoffe, and to assume, as a crest to his arms, a hand grasp- 
ing a cudgel. It is, however, a foible so ridiculously common 
in this country for people to claim consanguinity with all the 
great personages of their own name in Europe, that I should 



SALMAGUNDI. 93 

put but little faith in this family boast of friend Langstaff, did 
I not know hini to be a man of most unquestionable veracity. 

The whole world knows already that my friend is a bache- 
lor ; for he is, or pretends to be, exceedingly proud of his per- 
sonal independence, and takes care to make it known in all 
companies where strangers are present. He is forever vaunt- 
ing the precious state of "single blessedness;" and was not 
long ago considerably startled at a proposition of one of his 
great favourites, Miss Sophy Sparkle, "that old bachelors 
should be taxed as luxuries." Launcelot immediately hied 
him home, and wrote a tremendous long representation in 
their behalf, which I am resolved to publish if it is ever at- 
tempted to carry the measure into operation. Whether he is 
sincere in these professions, or whether his present situation 
is owing to choice or disappointment, he only can tell; but if 
he ever does tell, I will suffer myself to be shot by the first 
lady's eye that can twang an arrow. In his youth he was 
for ever in love ; but it was his misfortune to be continually 
crossed and rivalled by his bosom friend and contemporary 
beau, Pindar Cockloft, Esq., for as Langstaff never made a 
confidant on these occasions, his friend never knew which way 
his affections pointed; and so, between them both, the lady 
generally slipped through their fingers. 

It has ever been the misfortune of Launcelot that he could 
not for the soul of him restrain a good tiling; and this fatality 
has drawn upon him the ill will of many whom he would 
not have offended for the world. With the kindest heart 
under heaven, and the most benevolent disposition toward 
every being around him, he has been continually betrayed by 
the mischievous vivacity of his fancy, and the good-humoured 
waggery of his feelings, into satirical sallies which have been 
treasured up by the invidious, and retailed out with the bitter 
sneer of malevolence, instead of the playful hilarity of counte- 
nance which originally sweetened and tempered and disarmed 
them of their sting. — These misrepresentations have gained 
him many reproaches and lost him many a friend. 

This unlucky characteristic played the mischief with him in 
one of his love affairs. He was, as I have before observed, 
often opposed in his gallantries by that formidable rival, Pin- 
dar Cockloft, Esq., and a most formidable rival he was; for he 
had Apollo, the nine muses, together with all the joint tenants 
of Olympus to back him; and every body knows what im- 
portant confederates they are to a lover. Poor Launcelot 



94 SALMAGUNDI. 

stood no chance ; — the lady was cooped up in the poet's corner 
of every weekly paper; and at length Pindar attacked her 
with a sonnet that took up a whole column, in which he enu- 
merated at least a dozen cardinal virtues, together with innu- 
merable others of inferior consideration. Launcelot saw his* 
case was desperate, and that unless he sat down forthwith, be- 
churibimed and be-angeled her to the skies, and put every vir- 
tue under the sun in requisition, he might as well go hang 
himself and so make an end of the business. At it, therefore, 
he went, and was going on very swimmingly, for, in the space, 
of a dozen lines he had enlisted under her command at least 
three score and ten substantial housekeeping virtues, when, 
unluckily for Launcelot's reputation as a poet and the lady's aa 
a saint, one of those confounded good thoughts struck his 
laughter-loving brain ; — it was irresistible ; away he went full 
sweep before the wind, cutting and slashing and tickled to 
death with his own fun; the consequence was, that by the 
time he had finished, never was poor lady so most ludicrously 
lampooned since lampooning came into fashion. But this was 
not half ;— so hugely was Launcelot pleased with this frolic of 
his wits, that nothing would do but he must show it to the 
lady, who, as well she might, was mortally offended, and for- 
bid him her presence. My friend was in despair ; but through 
the interference of his generous rival, was permitted to make 
his apology, which, however, most unluckily happened to be 
rather worse than the original offence ; for though he had 
studied an eloquent compliment, yet, as ill-luck would have it, 
a most preposterous whim- wham knocked at his pericranium, 
and inspired him to say some consummate good things, which 
all put together amounted to a downright hoax, and provoked 
the lady's wrath to such a degree that sentence of eternal 
banishment was awarded against him. 

Launcelot was inconsolable, and determined, in the true 
style of novel heroics, to make the tour of Europe, and endea- 
vour to lose the recollection of this misfortune amongst the 
gayeties of France and the classic charms of Italy; he accord- 
ingly took passage in a vessel and pursued his voyage prosper- 
ously as far as Sandy Hook, where he was seized with a violent 
fit of sea- sickness; at which he was so affronted that lie put 
his portmanteau into the first pilot-boat and returned to town 
completely cured of his love and his rage for travelling. 

I pass over the subsequent amours of my friend Langstaff, 
being but little acquainted with them; for, as I have already 



SALMAGUNDI. 95 

mentioned, he never was known to make a confidant of any 
body. He always affirmed a man must be a fool to fall in love, 
but an idiot to boast of it ; — ever denominated it the villainous 
passion ;— lamented that it could not be cudgelled out of the hu- 
man heart ; — and yet could no more live without being in love 
with somebody or other than he could without whim- whams. 

My Mend Launcelot is a man of excessive irritability of 
nerve, and I am acquainted with no one so susceptible of the 
petty " miseries of human life;" yet its keener evils and mis- 
fortunes he bears without shrinking, and however they may 
prey in secret on his happiness, he never complains. This was 
strikingly evinced in an affair where his heart was deeply and 
irrevocably concerned, and in which his success was ruined by 
one for whom he had long cherished a warm friendship. The 
circumstance cut poor Langstaff to the very soul ; he was not 
seen in company for months afterwards, and for a long time 
he seemed to retire within himself, and battle with the poig- 
nancy of his feelings ; but not a murmur or a reproach was 
heard to fall from his lips, though, at the mention of his 
friend's name, a shade of melancholy might be observed steal- 
ing across his face, • and his voice assumed a touching tone, 
that seemed to say, he remembered his treachery "more in 
sorrow than in anger." — This affair has given a slight tinge of 
sadness to his disposition, which, however, does not prevent 
his entering into the amusements of the world; the only 
effect it occasions, is, that you may occasionally observe him, 
at the end of a lively conversation, sink for a few minutes into 
an apparent forgetfulness of surrounding objects, during 
which time he seems to be indulging in some melancholy 
retrospection. 

Langstaff inherited from his father a love of literature, a dis- 
position for castle-building, a mortal enmity to noise, a sove- 
reign antipathy to cold weather and brooms, and a plentiful 
stock of whim-whams. From the delicacy of his nerves he is 
peculiarly sensible to discordant sounds; the rattling of a 
wheelbarrow is " horrible;" the noise of children " drives him 
distracted ;" and he once left excellent lodgings merely because 
the lady of the house wore high-heeled shoes, in which she 
clattered up and down stairs, till, to use his own emphatic ex- 
pression, "they made life loathsome" to him. He suffers 
annual martyrdom from the razor-edged zephyrs of our 
"balmy spring," and solemnly declares that the boasted 
month of May has become a perfect "vagabond." As some 



86 SALMAGUNDI. 

people have a great antipathy to cats, and can tell when one is 
locked up in a closet, so Launcelot declares his feelings always 
announce to him the neighbourhood of a broom ; a household 
implement which he abominates above all others. Nor is there 
any living animal in the world that he holds in more utter 
abhorrence than what is usually termed a notable house-wife ; 
a pestilent being, who, he protests, is the bane of good-fellow- 
ship, and has a heavy charge to answer for the many offences 
committed against the ease, comfort, and social enjoyments of 
sovereign man. He told me not long ago, " that he had rather 
see one of the weird sisters flourish through his key-hole on a 
broomstick, than one of the servant maids enter the door with 
a besom." 

My friend Launcelot is ardent and sincere in his attachments, 
which are confined to a chosen few, in. whose society he loves 
to give free scope to his whimsical imagination ; he, however, 
mingles freely with the world, though more as a spectator than 
an actor ; and without an anxiety or hardly a care to please, 
is generally received with welcome and listened to with com- 
placency. When he extends his hand it is in a free, open, lib- 
eral style; and when you shake it, you feel his honest heart 
throb in its pulsations. Though rather fond of gay exhibitions, 
he does not appear so frequently at balls and assemblies since 
the introduction of the drum, trumpet, and tamborine : all of 
which he abhors on account of the rude attacks they make on 
his organs of hearing : — in short, such is his antipathy to noise, 
that though exceedingly patriotic, yet he retreats every fourth 
of July to Cockloft Hall, in order to get out of the way of the 
hub-bub and confusion which make so considerable a part of 
the pleasure of that splendid anniversary. 

I intend this article as a mere sketch of Langstaff's multifa- 
rious character ; his innumerable whim-whams will be exhibit- 
ed by himself, in the course of this work, in all their strange 
varieties ; and the machinery of his mind, more intricate than 
the most subtle piece of clock-work, be fully explained. And 
trust me, gentlefolk, his are the whim-whams of a courteous 
gentleman full of most excellent qualities ; honourable in his 
disposition, independent in his sentiments, and of unbounded 
good nature, as may be seen through all his works. 



SALMAGUNDI. 97 

ON STYLE. 

BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

Style, a manner of ivriting ; title; pin of a dial; the pistil oj 
plants. —Johnson. 

Style, is ... . style.-— Linkum Fidelius. 

Now I would not give a straw for either of the above defini- 
tions, though I think the latter is by far the most satisfactory : 
and I do wish sincerely every modern numskull, who takes 
hold of a subject he knows nothing about, would adopt hpnest 
Linkum's mode of explanation. Blair's Lectures on this article 
have not thrown a whit more light on the subject of my in- 
quiries ; they puzzled me just as much as did the learned and 
laborious expositions and illustrations of the worthy professor 
of our college, in the middle of which I generally had the ill 
luck to fall asleep. 

This same word style, though but a diminutive word, as- 
sumes to itself more contradictions, and significations, and 
eccentricities, than any monosy liable in the language is legiti- 
mately entitled to. It is an arrant little humorist of a word, 
and full of whim- whams, which occasions me to like it hugely ; 
but it puzzled me most wickedly on my first return from a long 
residence abroad, having crept into fashionable use during my 
absence ; and had it not been for friend Evergreen, and that 
thrifty sprig of knowledge, Jeremy Cockloft the younger, I 
should have remained to this day ignorant of its meaning. 

Though it would seem that the people of all countries are 
equally vehement in the pursuit of this phantom, style, yet in 
almost all of them there is a strange diversity in opinion as to 
what constitutes its essence; and every different class, like 
the pagan nations, adore it under a different form. In Eng- 
land, for instance, an honest cit packs up himself, his family, 
and his style, in a buggy or tim- whisky, and rattles away on 
Sunday with his fair partner blooming beside him, like an east- 
ern bride, and two chubby children, squatting like Chinese 
images at his feet. A Baronet requires a chariot and pair ;— a 
Lord must needs have a barouche and four; — but a Duke — oh! 
a Duke cannot possibly lumber his style along under a coach 
and six, and half a score of footmen into the bargain. In China 



93 SALMAGUNDI. 

a puissant Mandarin loads at least three elephants with style-, 
and an overgrown sheep at the Cape of Good-Hope, trails along 
his tail and his style on a wheelbarrow. In Egypt, or at Con- 
stantinople, style consists in the quantity of fur and fine clothes 
a lady can put on without danger of suffocation; here it is 
otherwise, and consists in the quantity she can put off without 
the risk of freezing. A Chinese lady is thought prodigal of her 
charms if she expose the tip of her nose, or the ends of her fii^ 
gers, to the ardent gaze of bystanders : and I recollect that all 
Canton was in a buzz in consequence of the great belle, Miss 
Nangf ous, peeping out of the window with her face uncovered ! 
Here the style is to show not only the face, but the neck, 
shoulders, &c. ; and a lady never presumes to hide them except 
when she is not at home, and not sufficiently undressed to see 
company. 

This style has ruined the peace and harmony of many a 
worthy household ; for no sooner do they set up for style, but 
instantly all the honest old comfortable sans ceremonie furni- 
ture is discarded ; and you stalk, cautiously about, amongst the 
uncomfortable splendour of Grecian chairs, Egyptian tables, 
Turkey carpets, and Etruscan vases. — This vast improvement 
in furniture demands an increase in the domestic establish- 
ment ; and a family that once required two or three servants 
for convenience, now employs half a dozen for style. 

Bell-brazen, late favourite of my unfortunate friend Des- 
salines, was one of these patterns of style ; and whatever freak 
she was seized with, however preposterous, was implicitly fol- 
lowed by all who would be considered as admitted in the styl- 
ish arcana. She was once seized with a whim-wham that tick- 
led the whole court. She could not lay down to take an 
afternoon's loll, but she must have one servant to scratch her 
head, two to tickle her feet, and a fourth to fan her delectable 
person while she slumbered. The thing took ; — it became the 
rage, and not a sable belle in all Hayti but what insisted upon 
being fanned, and scratched, and tickled in the true imperial 
style. Sneer not at this picture, my most excellent towns- 
women, for who among you but are daily following fashions 
equally absurd ! 

Style, according to Evergreen's account, consists in certain 
fashions, or certain eccentricities, or certain manners of cer- 
tain people, in certain situations, and possessed of a certain 
share of fashion or importance. A red cloak, for instance, on 
the shoulders of an old market-woman is regarded with con* 



SALMAGUNDI. 99 

tempt ; it is vulgar, it is odious : — fling, however, its usurping 
rival, a red shawl, over the fine figure of a fashionable belle, 
and let her flame away with it in Broadway, or in a ball-room, 
and it is immediately declared to be the style. 

The modes of attaining this certain situation, which entitle 
its holder to style, are various and opposite ; the most osten- 
sible is the attainment of wealth; the possession of which 
changes, at once, the pert airs of vulgar ignorance into fashion- 
able ease and elegant vivacity. It is highly amusing to ob- 
serve the gradation of a family aspiring to style, and the 
devious windings they pursue in order to attain it. While 
beating up against wind and tide they are the most com- 
plaisant beings in the world; — they keep "booing and booing," 
as M'Sycophant says, until you would suppose them incapable 
of standing upright ; they kiss their hands to every body who 
has the least claim to style; their familiarity is intolerable, 
and they absolutely overwhelm you with their friendship and 
loving-kindness. But having once gained the envied pre- 
eminence, never were beings in the world more changed. 
They assume the most intolerable caprices; at one time, ad- 
dress you with importunate sociability ; at another, pass you 
by with silent indifference ; sometimes sit up in their chairs in 
all the majesty of dignified silence ; and at another time bounce 
about with all the obstreperous ill-bred noise of a little hoyden 
just broke loose from a boarding-school. 

Another feature which distinguishes these new-made fashion- 
ables, is the inveteracy with which they look down upon the 
honest people who are struggling to climb up to the same envied 
height. They never fail to salute them with the most sarcastic 
reflections; and like so many worthy hodmen, clambering a 
ladder, each one looks down upon his next neighbour below 
and makes no scruple of shaking the dust off his shoes into his 
eyes. Thus by dint of perseverance, merely, they come to be 
considered as established denizens of the great world; as in 
some barbarous nations an oyster-shell is of sterling value, 
and a copper-washed counter will pass current for genuine 
gold. 

In no instance have I seen this grasping after style more 
whimsically exhibited, than in the family of my old acquaint- 
ance, Timothy Giblet. — I recollect old Giblet when I was a 
boy, and he was the most surly curmudgeon I ever knew. He 
was a perfect scare-crow to the small-fry of the day, and in 
herited the hatred of all these unlucky little shavers ; for nevei 



100 SALMAGUNDI. 

could we assemble about his door of an evening to play, and 
make a little hub-bub, but out he sallied from his nest like a 
spider, flourishing his formidable horse-whip, and dispersed the 
whole crew in the twinkling of a lamp. I perfectly remember 
a bill he sent in to my father for a pane of glass I had accident- 
ally broken, which came well-nigh getting me a sound flogging; 
and I remember, as perfectly, that the next night I revenged 
myself by breaking half a dozen. Giblet was as arrant a grub- 
worm as ever crawled ; and the only rules of right and wrong 
he cared a button for, were the rules of multiplication and 
addition ; which he practiced much more successfully than he 
did any of the rules of religion or morality. He used to de- 
clare they were the true golden rules ; and he took special care 
to put Cocker's arithmetic in the hands of his children, before 
they had read ten pages in the Bible or the prayer-book. The 
practice of these favourite maxims was at length crowned 
with the harvest of success ; and after a life of incessant self- 
denial, and starvation, and after enduring all the pounds, 
shillings, and pence miseries of a miser, he had the satisfaction 
of seeing himself worth a plum and of dying just as he had 
determined to enjoy the remainder of his days in contemplat- 
ing his great wealth and accumulating mortgages. 

His children inherited his money ; but they buried the dis- 
position, and every other merhorial of their father, in his 
grave. Fired with a noble thirst for style, they instantly 
emerged from the retired lane in which themselves and their 
accomplishments had hitherto been buried ; and they blazed, 
and they whizzed, and they cracked about town, like a nest of 
squibs and devils in a firework. I can liken their sudden eclat 
to nothing but that of the locust, which is hatched in the dust, 
where it increases and swells up to maturity, and after feeling 
for a moment the vivifying rays of the sun, bursts forth a 
mighty insect, and flutters, and rattles, and buzzes from every 
tree. The little warblers who have long cheered the wood- 
lands with their dulcet notes, are stunned by the discordant 
racket of these upstart intruders, and contemplate, in con- 
temptuous silence, their tinsel and their noise. 

Having once started, the Giblets were determined that noth- 
ing should stop them in their career, until they had run their 
full course and arrived at the very tip-top of style. Every 
tailor, every shoe-maker, every coach-maker, every milliner, 
every mantua-maker, every paper-hanger, every piano teacher, 
§nd every dancing master in the city, were enlisted in their 



SAL MA UNDL 101 

service; and the willing wights most courteously answered 
their call ; and fell to work to build up the fame of the Giblets, 
as they had done that of many an aspiring family before them. 
In a little time the young ladies could dance the waltz, 
thunder Lodoiska, murder French, kill time, and commit vio- 
lence on the face of nature in a landscape in water colours, 
equal to the best lady in the land; and the young gentlemen 
were seen lounging at corners of streets, and driving tandem ; 
heard talking loud at the theatre, and laughing in church; 
with as much ease, and grace, and modesty, as if they had 
been gentlemen all the days of their lives. 

And the Giblets arrayed themselves in scarlet, and in fine 
linen, and seated themselves in high places ; but nobody noticed 
them except to honor them with a little contempt. The Gib- 
lets made a prodigious splash in their own opinion; but no- 
body extolled them except the tailors, and the milliners, who 
had been employed in manufacturing their paraphernalia. The 
Giblets thereupon being, like Caleb Quotem, determined to 
have " a place at the review," fell to work more fiercely than 
ever;— they gave dinners, and they gave balls, they hired 
cooks, they hired fiddlers, they hired confectioners ; and they 
would have kept a newspaper in pay, had they not been all 
bought up at that time for the election. They invited the 
dancing-men and the dancing-women, and the gormandizers, 
and the epicures of the city, to come and make merry at their 
expense; and the dancing-men, and the dancing-women, and 
the epicures, and the gormandizers, did come; and they did 
make merry at their expense ; and they eat, and they drank, 
and they capered, and they danced, and they— laughed at their 
entertainers. 

Then commenced the hurry and the bustle and the mighty 
nothingness of fashionable life; — such rattling in coaches! 
such flaunting in the streets ! such slamming of box doors at 
the theatre! such a tempest of bustle and unmeaning noise 
wherever they appeared ! the Giblets were seen here and there 
and everywhere ;— they visited every body they knew, and 
every body they did not know; and there was no getting along 
for the Giblets. — Their plan at length succeeded. By dint of 
dinners, of feeding and frolicking the town, the Giblet family 
worked themselves into notice, and enjoyed the ineffable pleas- 
ure of being for ever pestered by visitors, who cared nothing 
about them ; of being squeezed, and smothered, and parboiled 
at nightly balls, and evening tea-parties:— they were allowed 



102 8 ALMA G UNDL 

the privilege of forgetting the very few old friends they once 
possessed ;— they turned their noses up in the wind at every 
thing that was not genteel; and there superb manners and 
sublime affectation at length left it no longer a matter of doubt 
that the Giblets were perfectly in style. 



" Being, as it were, a small contentmente in a never contenting subjecte; a 

bitter pleasaunte taste of sweete seasoned sower; and, all in all, a more than ordin- 
arie rejoycing, in an extraordinaire sorrow of delyghts." 

Link. Fidelius. 

We have been considerably edified of late by several letters 
of advice from a number of sage correspondents, who really 
seem to know more about our work than we do ourselves. 
One warns us against saying any thing more about Snivers, 
who is a very particular friend of the writer, and who has a 
singular disinclination to be laughed at. — This correspondent 
in particular inveighs against personalities, and accuses us of 
ill nature in bringing forward old Fungus and Billy Dimple, as 
figures of fun to amuse the public. Another gentleman, who 
states that he is a near relation of the Cocklofts, proses away 
most soporifically on the impropriety of ridiculing a respectable 
old family ; and declares that if we make them and their whim- 
whams the subject of any more essays, he shall be under the 
necessity of applying to our theatrical champions for satisfac- 
tion. A third, who by the crabbedness of the hand-writing, 
and a few careless inaccuracies in the spelling, appears to be a 
lady, assures us that the Miss Cocklofts, and Miss Diana Wear- 
well, and Miss Dashaway, and Mrs. , Will Wizard's quon- 
dam flame, are so much obliged to us for our notice, that they 
intend in future to take no notice of us at all, but leave us out 
of all their tea-parties ; for which we make them one of our 
best bows, and say, u thank you, ladies." 

We wish to heaven these good people would attend to their 
own affairs, if they have any to attend to, and let us alone. It 
is one of the most provoking things in the world that we can- 
not tickle the public a little, merely for our own private 
amusement, but we must be crossed and jostled by these med- 
dling incendiaries, and, in fact, have the whole town about our 
ears. We are much in the same situation with an unlucky 
blade of a cockney ; who, having mounted his bit of blood to 



iS ALMA Q UNDL 1 Of> 

enjoy a little innocent recreation, and display his horseman* 
ship along Broadway, is worried by all those little yelping euro 
that infest our city ; and who never fail to sally out and growl, 
and bark, and snarl, to the great annoyance of the Birmingham 
equestrian. 

Wisely was it said by the sage Linkum Fidelius, "howbeit, 
moreover, nevertheless, thisjthrice wicked towne is charged up 
to the muzzle with all manner of ill-natures and uncharitable- 
nesses, and is, moreover, exceedinglie naughte." This passage 
of the erudite Linkum was applied to the city of Gotham, of 
which he was once Lord Mayor, as appears by his picture hung 
up in the hall of that ancient city ;— but his observation fits 
this best of all possible cities " to a hair." It is a melancholy 
truth that this same New- York, although the most charming, 
pleasant, polished, and praise- worthy city under the sun, and, 
in a word, the bonne bouche of the universe, is most shockingly 
ill-natured and sarcastic, and wickedly given to all manner of 
backslidings ; — for which- we are very sorry indeed. In truth, 
for it must come out like murder one time or another, the in- 
habitants are not only ill-natured, but manifestly unjust : no 
sooner do they get one of our random sketches in their hands, 
but instantly they apply it most unjustifiably to some " dear 
friend," and then accuse us vociferously of the personality 
which originated in their own officious friendship ! Truly it is 
an ill-natured town, and most earnestly do we hope it may not 
meet with the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah of old. 

As, however, it may be thought incumbent upon us to make 
some apology for these mistakes of the town ; and as our good- 
nature is truly exemplary, we would certainly answer this 
expectation were it not that we have an invincible antipathy 
to making apologies. We have a most profound contempt for 
any man who cannot give three good reasons for an unreason- 
able thing; and will therefore condescend, as usual, to give 
the public three special reasons for never apologizing:— first, 
an apology implies that we are accountable to some body or 
another for our conduct ; — now as we do not care a fiddle-stick, 
as authors, for either public opinion or private ill-will, it would 
be implying a falsehood to apologize: — second, an apology 
would indicate that we had been doing what we ought not to 
have done. Now, as we never did nor ever intend to do any 
thing wrong it would be ridiculous to make an apology :— third, 
we labour under the same incapacity in the art of apologizing 
that lost LangstafT his mistress; we never yet undertook to 



104 8 ALMA G UNDL 

make apology without committing a new offence, and making 
matters ten times worse than they were before ; and we are, 
therefore, determined to avoid such predicaments in future. 

But though we have resolved never to apologize, yet we have 
no particular objection to explain; and if this is all that's 

wanted, we will go about it directly: allons, gentleman! 

before, however, we enter upbn this serious affair, we take 
this opportunity to express our surprise and indignation at the 
incredulity of some people. — Have we not, over and over, 
assured the town that we are three of the best-natured fellows 
living? And is it not astonishing, that having already given 
seven convincing proofs of the truth of this assurance, they 
should still have any doubts on the subject? but as it is one of 
the impossible things to make a knave believe in honesty, so 
perhaps it may be another to make this most sarcastic, satiri- 
cal, and tea-drinking city believe in the existence of good- 
nature. But to our explanation. Gentle reader! for we are 

convinced that none but gentle or genteel readers can relish 
our excellent productions, if thou art in expectation of being 
perfectly satisfied with what we are about to say, thou mayest 
as well "whistle lillebullero" and skip quite over what follows; 
for never wight was more disappointed than thou wilt be most 
assuredly. — But to the explanation: We care just as much 
about the public and its wise conjectures, as we do about the 
man in the moon and his whim- whams, or the criticisms of the 
lady who sits majestically in her elbow-chair in the lobster; 
and who, belying her sex, as we are credibly informed, never 
says any thing worth listening to. We have launched our 
bark, and we will steer to our destined port with undeviating 
perseverance, fearless of being shipwrecked by the way. Good- 
nature is our steersman, reason our ballast, whim the breeze 
that wafts us along, and morality our leading star. 



8 ALMA G UNDL 105 



NO. IX -SATURDAY, APRIL 25, 1807c 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

It in some measure jumps with my humour to be " melan- 
choly and gentleman-like" this stormy night, and I see no 
reason why I should not indulge myself for once. — Away, 
then, with joke, with fun, and laughter, for a while; let my 
soul look ba,ck in mournful retrospect, and sadden with the 
memory of my good aunt Charity — who died of a French- 
man! 

Stare not, oh, most dubious reader, at the mention of a 
complaint so uncommon; grievously hath is afflicted the 
ancient family of the Cocklofts, who carry their absurd 
antipathy to the French so far, that they will not suffer a 
clove of garlic in the house : and my good old friend Chris- 
topher was once on the point of abandoning his paternal 
country mansion of Cockloft-hall, merely because a colony 
of frogs had settled in a neighbouring swamp. I verily 
believe he would have carried his whim-wham into effect, 
had not a fortunate drought obliged the enemy to strike 
their tents, and, like a troop of wandering Arabs, to march 
off towards a moister part of the country. 

My aunt Charity departed this life in the fifty-ninth year of 
her age, though she never grew older after twenty-five. In 
her teens she was, according to her own account, a celebrated 
beauty,— though I never could meet with any body that re- 
membered when she was handsome; on the contrary, Ever- 
green's father, who used to gallant her in his youth, says she 
was as knotty a little piece of humanity as he ever saw ; and 
that, if she had been possessed of the least sensibility, she 
would, like poor old Acco, have most certainly run mad at her 
own figure and face the first time she contemplated herself in 
a looking-glass. In the good old times that saw my aunt in 



106 SALMAGUNDI. 

the hey-day of youth, a fine lady was a most formidable 
animal, and required to be approached with the same awe 
and devotion that a Tartar feels in the presence of his Grand 
Lama. If a gentleman offered to take her hand, except to 
help her into a carriage, or lead her into a drawing-room, such 
frowns ! such a rustling of brocade and taffeta ! her very paste 
shoe-buckles sparkled with indignation, and for a moment 
assumed the brilliancy of diamonds : in those days the person 
of a belle was sacred ; it was unprof aned by the sacrilegious 

grasp of a stranger: simple souls! — they had not the waltz 

among them yet ! 

My good aunt prided herself on keeping up this buckram 
delicacy; and if she happened to be playing at the old-fash- 
ioned game of forfeits, and was fined a kiss, it was always 
more trouble to get it than it was worth ; for she made a most 
gallant defence, and never surrendered until she saw her 
adversary inclined to give over his attack. Evergreen's 
father says he remembers once to have been on a sleighing 
party with her, and when they came to Kissing-bridge, it fell 
to his lot to levy contributions on Miss Charity Cockloft ; who, 
after squalling at a hideous rate, at length jumped out of the 
sleigh plump into a sn ow-bank ; where she stuck fast like an 
icicle, until he came to her rescue. This latonian feat cost her 
a rheumatism, from which she never thoroughly recovered. 

It is rattier singular that my aunt, though a great beauty, 
and an heiress withal, never got married. The reason she 
alleged was, that she never met with a lover who resembled 
Sir Charles Grandison, the hero of her nightly dreams and 
waking fancy ; but I am privately of opinion that it was owing 
to her never having had an offer. This much is certain, that 
for many years previous to her decease, she declined all 
attentions from the gentlemen, and contented herself with 
watching over the welfare of her fellow-creatures. She was, 
indeed, observed to take a considerable lean towards Method- 
ism, was frequent in her attendance at love feasts, read 
Whitefield and Wesley, and even went so far as once to travel 
the distance of five and twenty miles to be present at a camp- 
meeting. This gave great offence to my cousin Christopher 
and his good lady, who, as I have already mentioned, are 
rigidly orthodox; and had not my aunt Charity been of a 
most pacific disposition, her religious whim- wham would have 
occasioned many a family altercation. She was, indeed, as 
good a soul as the Cockloft family ever boasted; a lady of 



SALMAGUNDI. 107 

unbounded loving-kindness, which extended to man, woman, 
and child ; many of whom she almost killed with good-nature. 
Was any acquaintance sick ? in vain did the wind whistle and 
the storm beat; my aunt would waddle through mud and 
mire, over the whole town, but what she would visit them. 
She would sit by them for hours together with the most per- 
severing patience ; and tell a thousand melancholy stories of 
human misery, to keep up their spirits. The whole catalogue 
of yerh teas was at her fingers' ends, from formidable worm- 
wood down to gentle balm; and she would descant by the 
hour on the healing qualities of hoar-hound, catnip, and 
penny-royal. — Wo be to the patient that came under the 
benevolent hand of my aunt Charity; he was sure, willy 
nilly, to be drenched with a deluge of decoctions; and full 
many a time has my cousin Christopher borne a twinge of 
pain in silence through fear of being condemned to suffer the 
martyrdom of her materia-medica. My good aunt had, more- 
over, considerable skill in astronomy, for she could tell when 
the sun rose and set every day in the year ; and no woman in 
the whole world- was able to pronounce, with more certainty, 
at what precise minute the moon changed. She held the story 
of the moon's being made of green cheese, as an abominable 
slander on her favourite planet; and she had made several 
valuable discoveries in solar eclipses, by means of a bit of 
burnt glass, which entitled her at least to an honorary admis- 
sion in the American-philosophical-society. Hutchings im- 
proved was her favourite book ; and I shrewdly suspect that it 
was from this valuable work she drew most of her sovereign 
remedies for colds, coughs, corns, and consumptions. 

But the truth must be told ; with all her good qualities my 
aunt Charity was afflicted with one fault, extremely rare 
among her gentle sex; — it was curiosity. How she came by 
it, I am at a loss to imagine, but it played the very vengeance 
with her and destroyed the comfort of her life. Having an in- 
vincible desire to know every body's character, business, and 
mode of living, she was for ever prying into the affairs of her 
neighbours ; and got a great deal of ill will from people towards 
whom she had the kindest disposition possible. — If any family 
on the opposite side of the street gave a dinner ; my aunt 
would mount her spectacles, and sit at the window until the 
company were all housed ; merely that she might know who 
they were. If she heard a story about any of her acquain- 
tance, she would, forthwith, set off full sail and never rest 



108 SALMAGUNDI. 

until, to use her usual expression, she had got "to the bottom 
of it;" which meant nothing more than telling it to every body 
she knew. 

I remember one night my aunt Charity happened to hear a 
a most precious story about one of her good friends, but un- 
fortunately too late to give it immediate circulation. It made 
her absolutely miserable; and she hardly slept a wink all 
night, for fear her bosom friend, Mrs. Sipkins, should get the 
start of her in the morning and blow the whole affair. You 
must know there was always a contest between these two 
ladies, who should first give currency to the good-natured 
things said about every body ; and this unfortunate rivalship 
at length proved fatal to their long and ardent friendship. My 
aunt got up full two hours that morning before her usual time ; 
put on her pompadour taf eta gown, and sallied forth to lament 
the misfortune of her dear friend. Would you behove it! — 
wherever she went Mrs. Sipkins had anticipated her; and, 
instead of being listened to with uplifted hands and open- 
mouthed wonder, my unhappy aunt was obliged to sit down 
quietly and listen to the whole affair, with numerous addi- 
tions, alterations, and amendments! — now this was too bad; 
it would almost have provoked Patience Grizzle or a saint ; — it 
was too much for my aunt, who kept her bed for three days 
afterwards, with a cold, as she pretended ; but I have no doubt 
it was owing to this affair of Mrs. Sipkins, to whom she never 
would be reconciled. 

But I pass over the rest of my aunt Charity's life, checquered 
with the various calamities and misfortunes and mortifications 
incident to those worthy old gentlewomen who have the do- 
mestic cares of the whole community upon their minds ; and 
I hasten to relate the melancholy incident that hurried her out 
of existence in the full bloom of antiquated virginity. 

In their frolicksome malice the fates had ordered that a 
French boarding-house, or Pension Francaise, as it was called, 
should be established directly opposite my aunt's residence. 
Cruel event ! unhappy aunt Charity ! — it threw her into that 
alarming disorder denominated the fidgets; she did nothing 
but watch at the window day after day, but without becoming 
one whit the wiser at the end of a fortnight than she was at 
the beginning ; she thought that neighbour Pension had a mon- 
strous large family, and somehow or other they were all men ! 
she could not imagine what business neighbour Pension fol- 
lowed to support so numerous a household; and wondered 



SALMAGUNDI 109 

why there was always such a scraping of fiddles in the par- 
lour, and such a smell of onions from neighbour Pension's 
kitchen : in short, neighbour Pension was continually upper- 
most in her thoughts, and incessantly on the outer edge of her 
tongue. This was, I believe, the very first time she had ever 
failed u to get at the bottom of a thing;" and the disappoint- 
ment cost her many a sleepless night I warrant you. I have 
little doubt, however, that my aunt would have ferretted 
neighbour Pension out, could she have spoken or understood. 
French ; but in those times people in general could make them- 
selves understood in plain English ; and it was always a stand- 
ing rule in the Cockloft family, which exists to this day, that 
not one of the females should learn French, 

My aunt Charity had lived, at her window, for some time 
in vain ; when one day, as she was keeping her usual lo'ok-out, 
and suffering all the pangs of unsatisfied curiosity, she beheld 
a little, meagre, weazel-f aced Frenchman, of the most forlorn, 
diminutive, and pitiful proportions, arrive at neighbour Pen- 
sion's door. He was dressed in white, with a little pinched-up 
cocked hat ; he seemed to shake in the wind, and every blast 
that went over him whistled through his bones and threatened 
instant annihilation. This embodied spirit-of-famine was fol- 
lowed by three carts, lumbered with crazy trunks, chests, 
band-boxes, bidets, medicine - chests, parrots, and monkeys; 
and at his heels ran a yelping pack of little black-nosed pug 
dogs. This was the one thing wanting to fill up the measure 
of my aunt Charity's afflictions ; she could not conceive, for 
the soul of her, who this mysterious little apparition could be 
that made so great a display ; what he could possibly do with 
so much baggage, and particularly with his parrots and mon- 
keys ; or how so small a carcass could have occasion for so 
many trunks of clothes. Honest soul ! she had never had a 
peep into a Frenchman's wardrobe ; that depot of old coats, 
hats, and breeches, of the grow th of every fashion he has fol- 
lowed in his life. 

From the time of this fatal arrival, my poor aunt was in a 
quandary ;— all her inquiries were fruitless ; no one could ex- 
pound the history of this mysterious stranger: she never held 
up her head afterwards, — drooped daily, took to her bed in a 
fortnight, and in "one little month" I saw her quietly depos- 
ited in the family vault : — being the seventh Cockloft that has 
died of a whim-wham ! 

Take warning, my fair country-women I and you, oh, ye ex- 



HO SALMAGUNDI. 

cellent ladies, whether married, or single, who pry into other 
people's affairs and neglect those of your own household;— 
whc are so busily employed in observing the faults of others 
that you have no time to correct your own ;— remember the 
fate of my dear aunt Charity, and eschew the evil spirit of 
curiosity. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

I find, by perusal of our last number, that Will Wizard 
and Evergreen, taking advantage of my confinement, have 
been playing some of their gambols. I suspected these rogues 
of some mal-practices, in consequence of their queer looks and 
knowing winks whenever I came down to dinner; and of their 
not showing their faces at old Cockloft's for several days after 
the appearance of their precious effusions. Whenever these 
two waggish fellows lay their heads together, there is always 
sure to be hatched some notable piece of mischief ; which, if it 
tickles nobody else, is sure to make its authors merry. The 
public will take notice that, for the purpose of teaching these 
my associates better manners, and punishing them for their 
high misdemeanors, I have, by virtue of my authority, sus- 
pended them from all interference in Salmagundi, until they 
show a proper degree of repentance ; or I get tired of support- 
ing the burthen of the work myself. I am sorry for Will, who 
is already sufficiently mortified in not daring to come to the 
old house and tell his long stories and smoke his segar ; but 
Evergreen, being an old beau, may solace himself in his dis- 
grace by trimming up all his old finery and making love to 
the little girls. 

At present my right-hand man is cousin Pindar, whom I 
have taken into high favour. He came home the other night 
all in a blaze like a sky-rocket— whisked up to his room in a 
paroxysm of poetic inspiration, nor did we see any thing of 
him until late the next morning, when he bounced upon us at 
breakfast, 

" Fire in each eye — and paper in each hand." 

This is just the way with Pindar, he is like a volcano ; will 
remain for a long time silent without emitting a single spark, 
and then, all at once, burst out in a tremendous explosion of 
rhyme and rhapsody. 



SALMAGUNDI. HI 

As the letters of my friend Mustapha seem to excite consid' 
erable curiosity, I have subjoined another. I do not vouch 
for the justice of his remarks, or the correctness of his con- 
clusions; they are full of the blunders and errors in which 
strangers continually indulge, who pretend to give an account 
of this country before they well know the geography of the 
street in which they live. The copies of my friend's papers 
being confused and without date, I cannot pretend to give 
them in systematic order ; — in fact, they seem now and then 
to treat of matters which have occurred since his departure ; 
whether these are sly interpolations of that meddlesome wight 
Will Wizard, or whether honest Mustapha was gifted with 
the spirit of prophecy or second sight, I neither know — nor, in 
fact, do I care. The following seems to have been written 
when the Tripolitan prisoners were so much annoyed ' by the 
ragged state of their wardrobe. Mustapha feelingly depicts 
the embarrassments of his situation, traveller-like ; makes an 
easy transition from his breeches to the seat of government, 
and incontinently abuses the whole administration; like a 
sapient traveller I once knew, who damned the French nation 
in toto — because they eat sugar with green peas. 



LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN. 

CAPTAIN OF A KETCH, TO ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL SLAVE- 
DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESS THE BASHAW OF TRIPOLI. 

Sweet, oh, Asem ! is the memory of distant friends ! like the 
mellow ray of a departing sun it falls tenderly yet sadly on the 
heart. Every hour of absence from my native land rolls 
heavily by, like the sandy wave of the desert ; and the fair 
shores of my country rise blooming to my imagination, clothed 
in the soft, illusive charms of distance. I sigh, yet no one lis- 
tens to the sigh of the captive ; I shed the bitter tear of recol- 
lection, but no one sympathizes in the tear of the turbaned 
stranger! Think not, however, thou brother of my soul, that 
I complain of the horrors of my situation ; — think not that my 
captivity is attended with the labours, the chains, the scourges, 
the insults, that render slavery, with us, more dreadful than 
the pangs of hesitating, lingering death. Light, indeed, are 



|12 8 ALMA G UNDL 

the restraints on the personal freedom of thy kinsman ; but 
who can enter into the afflictions of the mind? — who can de- 
scribe the agonies of the heart? they are mutable as the clouds 
of the air— they are countless as the waves that divide me 
from my native country. • 

I have, of late, my dear Asem, laboured under an inconve- 
nience singularly unfortunate, and am reduced to a dilemma 
most ridiculously embarrassing. Why should I hide it from 
the companion of my thoughts, the partner of my sorrows and 
my joys? Alas! Asem, thy friend Mustapha, the invincible 
captain of a ketch, is sadly in want of a pair of breeches! Thou 
wilt doubtless smile, oh, most grave Mussulman, to hear me 
indulge in such ardent lamentations about a circumstance so 
trivial, and a want apparently so easy to be satisfied ; but little 
canst thou know of the mortifications attending my necessities, 
and the astonishing difficulty of supplying them. Honoured 
by the smiles and attentions of the beautiful ladies of this city, 
who have fallen in love with my whiskers and my turban; 
courted by the bashaws and the great men, who delight to 
have me at their feasts^; the honour of my company eagerly 
solicited by every fiddler who gives a concert ; think of my 
chagrin at being obliged to decline the host of invitations that 
daily overwhelm me, merely for want of a pair of breeches ! 
Oh, Allah ! Allah ! that thy disciples could come into the world 
all be-feathered like a bantam, or with a pair of leather breeches 
like the wild deer of the forest! Surely, my friend, it is the 
destiny of man to be for ever subjected to petty evils ; which, 
however trifling in appearance, prey in silence on his little 
pittance of enjoyment, and poison those moments of sunshine 
which might otherwise be consecrated to happiness. 

The want of a garment, thou wilt say, is easily supplied; and 
thou mayest suppose need only be mentioned, to be remedied 
at once by any tailor of the land : little canst thou conceive the 
impediments which stand in the way of my comfort ; and still 
less art thou acquainted with the prodigious great scale on 
which every thing is transacted in this country. The nation 
moves most majestically slow and clumsy in the most trivial 
affairs, like the unwieldy elephant which makes a formidable 
difficulty of picking up a straw ! When I hinted my necessities 
to the officer wiio has charge of myself and my companions, I 
expected to have them forthwith relieved; but he made an 
amazing long face, told me that we were prisoners of state, 
that we must, therefore, be clothed at the expense of govern- 



SALMAGUNDI. 113 

ment ; that as no provision had been made by congress for an 
emergency of the kind, it was impossible to furnish me with a 
pair of breeches, until all the sages of the nation had been con- 
vened to talk over the matter and debate upon the expediency 
of granting my request. Sword of the immortal Khalid, 
thought I, but this is great! — this is truly sublime! All the 
sages of an immense logocracy assembled together to talk 
about my breeches! Vain mortal that I am! — I cannot but 
own I was somewhat reconciled to the delay, which must nec- 
essarily attend this method of clothing me, by the considera- 
tion, that if they made the affair a national act, my "name 
must, of course, be embodied in history," and myself and my 
breeches flourish to immortality in the annals of this mighty 
empire ! 

" But, pray," said I, "how does it happen that a matter so 
insignificant should be erected into an object of such impor- 
tance as to employ the representative wisdom of the nation ; 
and what is the cause of their talking so much about a trifle?" 
— " Oh," replied the officer, who acts as our slave-driver, "it 
all proceeds from economy. If the government did not spend 
ten times as much money in debating whether it was proper to 
supply you with breeches, as the breeches themselves would 
cost, the people who govern the bashaw and his divan would 
straightway begin to complain of their liberties being infringed ; 
the national finances squandered ! not a hostile slang- whanger 
throughout the logocracy, but would burst forth like a barrel 
of combustion, and ten chances to one but the bashaw and the 
sages of his divan would all be turned out of office together. 
My good Mussulman, " continued he, ' ■ the administration have 
the good of the people too much at heart to trifle with their 
pockets ; and they would sooner assemble and talk away ten 
thousand dollars, than expend fifty silently out of the treasury ; 
such is the wonderful spirit of economy that pervades every 
branch of this government." "But," said I, "how is it possi- 
ble they can spend money in talking ; surely words cannot be 
the current coin of this country?" "Truly," cried he, smiling, 
"your question is pertinent enough, for words indeed often 
supply the place of cash among us, and many an honest debt 
is paid in promises : but the fact is, the grand bashaw and the 
members of congress, or grand-talkers-of-the-nation, either 
receive a yearly salary or are paid by the day." " By the nine 
hundred tongues of the great beast in Mahomet's vision, but 
the murder is out ; — it is no wonder these honest men talk so 



114 SALMAGUNDI 

much about nothing, when they are paid for talking, like day* 
labourers." " You are mistaken," said my driver, " it is noth- 
ing but economy !" 

I remained silent for some minutes, for this inexplicable 
word economy always discomfits me ; and when I flatter my 
self I have grasped it, it slips through my fingers like a jack- 
o'-lantern. I have not, nor perhaps ever shall acquire, suffi- 
cient of the philosophic policy of this government to draw a 
proper distinction between an individual and a nation. If a 
man was to throw away a pound in order to save a beggarly 
penny, and boast, at the same time, of his economy, I should 
think him on a par with the fool in the fable of Alfanji, who, 
in skinning a flint worth a farthing, spoiled a knife worth fifty 
times the sum, and thought he had acted wisely. The shrewd 
fellow would doubtless have valued himself much more highly 
on his economy, could he have known that his example would 
one day be followed by the bashaw of America, and the sages 
of his divan. 

This economic disposition, my friend, occasions much fight- 
ing of the spirit, and innumerable contests of the tongue in 
this talking assembly. — Wouldst thou believe it? they were 
actually employed for a whole week in a most strenuous and 
eloquent debate about patching up a hole in the wall of the 
room appropriated to their meetings! A vast profusion of 
nervous argument and pompous declamation was expended on 
the occasion. Some of the orators, I am told, being rather wag- 
gishly inclined, were most stupidly jocular on the occasion ; but 
their waggery gave great offence ; and was highly reprobated 
by the more weighty part of the assembly, who hold all wit 
and humour in abomination, and thought the business in hand 
much too solemn and serious to be treated lightly. It is sup- 
posed by some that this affair would have occupied a whole 
winter, as it was a subject upon which several gentlemen 
spoke who had never been known to open their lips in that 
place except to say yes and no. These silent members are by 
way of distinction denominated orator mums, and are highly 
valued in this country on account of their great talent for 
silence;— a qualification extremely rare in a logocracy. 

Fortunately for the public tranquillity, in the hottest part of 
the debate, when two rampant Virginians, brim-full of logic 
and philosophy, were measuring tongues, and syllogistically 
cudgelling each other out of their unreasonable notions, the 
president of the divan, a knowing old gentleman, one night 



SALMAGUNDI. 115 

slyly sent a mason with a hod of mortar, who, in the course of 
a few minutes, closed up the hole and put a final end to the ar- 
gument. Thus did thiswise old gentleman, by hitting on a 
most simple expedient, in all probability save his country as 
much money as would build a gun-boat, or pay a hireling 
slang- whanger for a whole volume of words. As it happened, 
only a few thousand dollars were expended in paying these 
men, who are denominated, I suppose in derision, legislators. 

Another instance of their economy I relate with pleasure, for 
I really begin to feel a regard for these poor barbarians. They 
talked away the best part of a whole winter before they 
could determine not to expend a few dollars in purchasing a 
sword to bestow on an illustrious warrior : yes, Asem, on that 
very hero who frightened all our poor old women and young 
children at Derne, and fully proved himself a greater man 
than the mother that bore him. Thus, my friend, is the whole 
collective wisdom of this mighty logocracy employed in somni- 
ferous debates about the most trivial affairs ; like I have some- 
times seen a herculean mountebank exerting all his energies in 
balancing a straw upon his nose. Their sages behold the minu- 
test object with the microscopic eyes of a pismire ; mole-hills 
swell into mountains, and a gram of mustard-seed will set the 
whole ant-hill in a hub-bub. Whether this indicates a capa- 
cious vision, or a diminutive mind, I leave thee to decide ; for 
my part, I consider it as another proof of the great scale on 
which every thing is transacted in this countrv. 

I have before told thee that nothing can be done without con- 
sulting the sages of the nation, who compose the assembly 
called the congress. This prolific body may not improperly be 
termed the "mother of inventions;" and a most fruitful 
mother it is, let me tell thee, though its children are generally 
abortions. It has lately laboured with what was deemed the 
conception of a mighty navy.— All the old women and the 
good wives that assist the bashaw in his emergencies hurried 
to head-quarters to be busy, like mid wives, at the delivery. - 
All was anxiety, fidgeting, and consultation ; when, after a deal 
of groaning and struggling, instead of formidable first rates 
and gallant frigates, out crept a litter of sorry little gun- 
boats ! These are most pitiful little vessels, partaking vastly 
of the character of the grand bashaw, who has the credit of 
begetting them ; being flat, shallow vessels that can only sail 
before the wind: — must always keep in with the land; — are 
continually foundering or running ashore; and, in short, are 



116 SALMAGUNDI. 

only fit for smooth water. Though intended for the defence 
of the maritime cities, yet the cities are obliged to defend 
them; and they require as much nursing as so many ricketty 
little bantlings. They are, however, the darling pets of the 
grand bashaw, being the children of his dotage, and, perhaps 
from their diminutive size and palpable weakness, are called 
the " infant navy of America." The act that brought them 
into existence was almost deified by the majority of the peo- 
ple as a grand stroke of economy. — By the beard of Mahomet, 
but this word is truly inexplicable ! 

To this economic body, therefore, was 1 advised to address 
my petition, and humbly to pray that the august assembly 
of sages would, in the plenitude of their wisdom and the mag- 
nitude of their powers, munificently bestow on an unfortu- 
nate captive, a pair of cotton breeches ! " Head of the immor- 
tal Amrou," cried I, u but this would be presumptuous to a de- 
gree ; what ! after these worthies have thought proper to leave 
their country naked and defenceless, and exposed to all the po- 
litical storms that rattle without, can I expect that they will 
lend a helping hand to comfort the extremities of a solitary 
captive?" My exclamation was only answered by a smile, and 
I was consoled by the assurance that, so far from being neg- 
lected, it was every way probable my breeches might occupy 
a whole session of the divan, and set several of the longest 
heads together by the ears. Flattering as was the idea of a 
whole nation being agitated about my breeches, yet I own I 
was somewhat dismayed at the idea of remaining in querpo, 
until all the national gray -beards should have made a speech 
on the occasion, and given their consent to the measure. The 
embarrassment and distress of mind which I experienced was 
visible in my countenance, and my guard, who is a man of in- 
finite good-nature, immediately suggested, as a more expedi- 
tious plan of supplying my wants — a benefit at the theatre. 
Though prof oundly ignorant of his meaning, I agreed to his 
proposition, the result of which I shall disclose to thee in 
another letter. 

Fare thee well, dear Asem; in thy pious prayers to our 
great prophet, never forget to solicit thy friend's return ; and 
when thou numberest up the many blessings bestowed on thee 
by all-bountiful Allah, pour forth thy gratitude that he has 
cast thy nativity in a land where there is no assembly of 
legislative chatterers : — no great bashaw, who bestrides a gun- 
boat for a hobby-horse : — where the word economy is un- 



SALMAGUNDI. 117 

known; — and where an unfortunate captive is not obliged to 
call upon the whole nation, to cut hini out a pair of breeches. 

Ever thine, 

Mustapha. 






FEOM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. 

Though enter'd on that sober age, 
When men withdraw from fashion's stage, 
And leave the follies of the day, 
To shape their course a graver way ; 
Still those gay scenes I loiter round, 
In which my youth sweet transport found : 
And though I feel their joys decay, 
And languish every hour away, — 
Yet like an exile doom'd to part, 
From the dear country of his heart, 
From the fair spot in which he sprung, 
Where his first notes of love were sung, 
Will often turn to wave the hand, 
And sigh his blessings on the land; 
Just so my lingering watch I keep, — 
Thus oft I take my farewell peep. 

And, like that pilgrim who retreats, 
Thus lagging from his parent seats, 
When the sad thought pervades his mind, 
That the fair land he leaves behind 
Is ravaged by a foreign foe, 
Its cities waste, its temples low, 
And ruined all those haunts of joy 
That gave him rapture when a boy; 
Turns from it with averted eye. 
And while he heaves the anguish'd sigh, 
Scarce feels regret that the loved shore 
Shall beam upon his sight no more ; — 
Just so it grieves my soul to view, 
While breathing forth a fond adieu, 
The innovations pride has made, 
The fustian, frippery, and parade, 
That now usurp with mawkish grace 
Pure tranquil pleasure's wonted place I 



118 SALMAGUNDI. 

'Twas joy we look'd for in my prime, 
That idol of the olden time ; 
When all our pastimes had the art 
To please, and not mislead, the heart. 
Style curs'd us not,— that modern flash, 
That love of racket and of trash ; 
Which scares at once all feeling joys, 
And drowns delight in empty noise ; 
Which barters friendship, mirth, and truth; 
The artless air, the bloom of youth, 
And all those gentle sweets that swarm 
Eound nature in her simplest form, 
For cold display, for hollow state, 
The trappings of the would-be great. 

Oh ! once again those days recall, 
When heart met heart in fashion's hall ; 
When every honest guest would flock 
To add his pleasure to the stock, 
More fond his transports to express, 
Than show the tinsel of his dress ! 
These were the times that clasp'd the soul 
In gentle friendship's soft control, 
Our fair ones, unprofan'd by art, 
Content to gain one honest heart, 
No train of sighing swains desired, 
Sought to be loved and not admired. 
But now 'tis form, not love, unites ; 
'Tis show, not pleasure, that invites. 
Each seeks the ball to play the queen, 
To flirt, to conquer, to be seen; 
Each grasps at universal sway, 
And reigns the idol of the day; 
Exults amid a thousand sighs, 
And triumphs when a lover dies. 
Each belle a rival belle surveys, 
Like deadly foe with hostile gaze ; 
Nor can her'" dearest friend" caress, 
Till she has slyly scann'd her dress; 
Ten conquests in one year will make, 
And six eternal friendships break ! 

How oft I breathe the inward sigh, 
And feel the dew-drop in my eye, 



SALMAGUNDI. 119 

When I behold some beauteous frame, 
Divine in every thing but name. 
Just venturing, in the tender age, 
On fashion's late new-fangled stage ! 
Where soon the guiltless heart shall cease 
To beat in artlessness and peace ; 
Where all the flowers of gay delight 
With which youth decks its prospects bright, 
Shall wither 'mid the cares, the strife, 
The cold realities of life ! 

Thus lately, in my careless mood, 
As I the world of fashion view'd 
While celebrating great and small 
That grand solemnity, a ball, 
My roving vision chanced to light 
On two sweet forms, divinely bright ; 
Two sister nymphs, alike in face, 
In mien, in loveliness, and grace ; 
Twin rose-buds, bursting into bloom, 
In all their brilliance and perfume : 
Like those fair forms that often beam 
Upon the Eastern poet's dream ! 
For Eden had each lovely maid 
In native innocence arrayed, — 
And heaven itself had almost shed 
Its sacred halo round each head ! 

They seem'd, just entering hand in hand, 
To cautious tread this fairy land ; 
To take a timid, hasty view, 
Enchanted with a scene so new. 
The modest blush, untaught by art, 
Bespoke their purity of heart ; 
And every timorous act unf url'd 
Two souls unspotted by the world. 

Oh, how these strangers joy'd my sight, 
And thrill'd my bosom with delight ! 
They brought the visions of my youth 
Back to my soul in all their truth ; 
Recall'd fair spirits into day, 
That time's rough hand had swept away ! 
Thus the bright natives from above, 
Who come on messages of love, 



120 SALMA G UNDL 

Will bless, at rare and distant whiles, 
Our sinful dwelling by their smiles ! 

Oh ! my romance of youth is past, 
Dear airy dreams too bright to last ! 
Yet when such forms as these appear, 
I feel your soft remembrance here ; 
For, ah ! the simple poet's heart, 
On which fond love once play'd its part, 
Still feels the soft pulsations beat, 
As loth to quit their former seat. 
Just like the harp's melodious wire, 
Swept by a bard with heavenly fire, 
Though ceased the loudly swelling strain 
Yet sweet vibrations long remain. 

Full soon I found the lovely pair 
Had sprung beneath a mother's care, 
Hard by a neighbouring streamlet's side, 
At once its ornament and pride. 
The beauteous parent's tender heart 
Had well fulfill'd its pious part; 
And, like the holy man of old, 
As we're by sacred writings told, 
Who, when he from his pupil sped, 
Pour'd two-fold blessings on his head.— 
So this fond mother had imprest 
Her early virtues in each breast, 
Ajid as she found her stock enlarge, 
Had stampt new graces on her charge. 

The fair resign'd the calm retreat, 
Where first their souls in concert beat, 
And flew on expectation's wing, 
To sip the joys of life's gay spring; 
To sport in fashion's splendid maze, 
Where friendship fades and love decays. 
So two sweet wild flowers, near the side 
Of some fair river's silver tide, 
Pure as the gentle stream that laves 
The green banks with its lucid waves, 
Bloom beauteous in their native ground^ 
Diffusing heavenly fragrance round ; 
But should a venturous hand transfer 
These blossoms to the gay parterre, 



SALMAGUNDI 121 

Where, spite of artificial aid, 
The fairest plants of nature fade, 
Though they may shine supreme awhile 
-Mid pale ones of the stranger soil, 
The tender beauties soon decay, 
And their sweet fragrance dies away. 
Blest spirits ! who, enthroned in air, 
Watch o'er the virtues of the fair, 
And with angelic ken survey 
Their windings through life's chequer'd way 
Who hover round them as they glide 
Down fashion's smooth, deceitful tide, 
And guard them o'er that stormy deep 
Where dissipation's tempests sweep : 
Oh, make this inexperienced pair 
The objects of your tenderest care. 
Preserve them from the languid eye, 
The faded cheek, the long-drawn sigh ; 
And let it be your constant aim 
To keep the fair ones still the same : 
Two sister hearts, unsullied, bright 
As the first beam of lucid light 
That sparkled from the youthful sun, 
When first his jocund race begun. 
So when these hearts shall burst their shrine 
To wing their flight to realms divine, 
They may to radiant mansions rise 
Pure as when first they left the skies. 



122 SALMAGUJXDL 



NO. X.-SATURDAY, MAY 16, 1807. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

The long interval which has elapsed since the publication ot 
our last number, like many other remarkable events, has 
given rise to much conjecture and excited considerable solici- 
tude. It is but a day or two since I heard a knowing young 
gentleman observe, that he suspected Salmagundi would be a 
nine days' wonder, and had even prophesied that the ninth 
would be our last effort. But the age of prophecy, as well as 
that of chivalry, is past ; and no reasonable man should now 
venture to foretell aught but what he is'determined to bring 
about himself: — he may then, if he please, monopolize predic- 
tion, and be honoured as a prophet even in his own country. 

Though I hold whether we write, or not write, to be none of 
the public's business, yet as I have just heard of the loss of 
three thousand votes at least to the Clintonians, I feel in a 
remarkably dulcet humour thereupon, and will give some 
account of the reasons which induced us to resume our useful 
labours : — or rather our amusement ; for, if writing cost either 
of us a moment's labour, there is not a man but what would 
hang up his pen, to the great detriment of the world at large, 
and of our publisher in particular ; who has actually bought 
himself a pair of trunk breeches, with the profits of our 
writings ! ! 

He informs me that several persons having called last 
Saturday for No. X., took the disappointment so much to 
heart, that he really apprehended some terrible catastrophe; 
and one good-looking man, in particular, declared his inten- 
tion of quitting the country if the work was not continued. 
Add to this, the town has grown quite melancholy in the last 
fortnight; and several young ladies have declared, in my 
hearing, that if another number did not make its appearance 



8 ALMA G UNDL 123 

soon, they would be obliged to amuse themselves with teasing 
their beaux and making them miserable. Now I assure my 
readers there was no flattery in this, for they no more sus- 
pected me of being Launcelot Langstaff , than they suspected me 
of being the emperor of China, or the man in the moon. 

I have also received several letters complaining of our indo- 
lent procrastination; and one of my correspondents assures 
me, that a number of young gentlemen, who had not read a 
book through since they left school, but who have taken a 
wonderful liking to our paper, will certainly relapse into their 
old habits unless we go on. 

For the sake, therefore, of all these good people, and most 
especially for the satisfaction of the ladies, every one of whom 
we would love, if we possibly could, I have again wielded my 
pen with a most hearty determination to set the whole world 
to rights ; to make cherubims and seraphs of all the fair ones 
of this enchanting town, and raise the spirits of the poor 
federalists, who, in truth, seem to be in a sad taking, ever 
since the American-Ticket met with the accident of being so 
unhappily thrown out. 



TO LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

Sir: — I felt myself hurt and offended by Mr. Evergreen's 
terrible philippic against modern music, in No. II. of your 
work, and was under serious apprehension that his strictures 
might bring the art, which I have the honour to profess, into 
contempt. The opinion of yourself and fraternity appears 
indeed to have a wonderful effect upon the town. — I am told 
the ladies are all employed in reading Bunyan and Pamela, 
and the waltz has been entirely forsaken ever since the winter 
balls have closed. Under these apprehensions I should have 
addressed you before, had I not been sedulously employed, 
while the theatre continued open, in supporting the astonish- 
ing variety of the orchestra, and in composing a new chime or 
Bob-Major for Trinity Church, to be rung during the summer, 
beginning with ding-dong di-do, instead of di-do ding-dong. 
The citizens, especially those who live in the neighbourhood of 
that harmonious quarter, will, no doubt, be infinitely de- 
lighted with this novelty. 



124 SALMAGUNDI. 

But to the object of this communication. So far, sir, from 
agreeing with Mr. Evergreen in thinking that all modern 
music is but the mere dregs and drainings of the ancient, I 
trust, before this letter is concluded, I shall convince you and 
him that some of the late professors of this enchanting art 
have completely distanced the paltry efforts of the ancients ; 
and that I, in particular, have at length brought it almost to 
absolute perfection. 

The Greeks, simple souls ! were astonished at the powers of 
Orpheus, who made the woods and rocks dance to his lyre; 
— of Amphion, who converted crotchets into bricks, and qua- 
vers into mortar ; — and of Arion, who won upon the compas- 
sion of the fishes. In the fervency of admiration, their poets 
fabled that Apollo had lent them his lyre, and inspired them 
with his own spirit of harmony. What then would they have 
said had they witnessed the wonderful effects of my skill ? had 
they heard me in the compass of a single piece, describe in 
glowing notes one of the most sublime operations of nature ; 
and not only make inanimate objects dance, but even speak; 
and not only speak, but speak in strains of exquisite harmony ? 

Let me not, however, be understood to say that I am the sole 
author of this extraordinary improvement in the art, for I 
confess I took the hint of many of my discoveries from some 
of those meritorious productions that have lately come abroad 
and made so much noise under the title of overtures. From 
some of these, as, for instance, Lodoiska, and the battle of 
Marengo, a gentleman, or a captain in the city militia, or an 
amazonian young lady, may indeed acquire a tolerable idea of 
military tactics, and become very well experienced in the firing 
of musketry, the roaring of cannon, the rattling of drums, the 
whistling of fifes, braying of trumpets, groans of the dying, 
and trampling of cavalry, without ever going to the wars; but 
it is more especially in the art of imitating inimitable things, 
and giving the language of every passion and sentiment of 
the human mind, so as entirely to do away the necessity of 
speech, that I particularly excel the most celebrated musicians 
of ancient and modern times. 

I think, sir, I may venture to say there is not a sound in the 
whole compass of nature which I cannot imitate, and even 
improve upon ;— nay , what I consider the perfection of my art, 
I have discovered a method of expressing, in the most striking 
manner, that undefinable, indescribable silence which accom- 
panies the falling of snow. 



SALMAGUNDI. 125 

In order to prove to you that I do not arrogate to myself 
what I am unable to perform, I will detail to you the different 
movements of a grand piece which I pride myself upon ex- 
ceedingly, called the u Breaking up of the ice in the North 
River." 

The piece opens with a gentle andante affetuosso, which ush- 
ers you into the assembly-room in the state-house in Albany, 
where the speaker addresses his f areweli speech, informing the 
members that the ice is about breaking up, and thanking them 
for their great services and good behaviour in a manner so pa- 
thetic as to bring tears into their eyes.— Flourish of Jacks-a- 
donkies. — Ice cracks; Albany in a hub-bub: — air, " Three chil- 
dren sliding on the ice, all on a summer's day."— Citizens 

quarrelling in Dutch; chorus of a tin trumpet, a cracked 

fiddle, and a hand-saw ! allegro moderate. — Hard f ro'st :— this, 

if given with proper spirit, has a charming effect, and sets 
every body's teeth chattering. — Symptoms of snow — consulta- 
tion of old women who complain of pains in the bones and 

rheumatics; air, ' ' There was an old woman tossed up in a 

blanket," &c. allegro staccato ; wagon breaks into the ice; 

— people all run to see what is the matter ; air, siciliano — 

"Can you row the boat ashore, Billy boy, Billy boy;" — an- 
dante; — frost fish froze up in the ice; air, — " Ho, why dost 

thou shiver and shake, Gaffer Gray, and why does thy nose 

look so blue ?" Flourish of two-penny trumpets and rattlers; 

— consultation of the North-river society ; — determine to set the 
North-river on fire, as soon as it will burn;— air, u O, what a 
fine kettle of fish." 

Part II. — Great Thaw. — This consists of the most melting 
strains, flowing so smoothly as to occasion a great overflowing 
of scientific rapture; air— " One misty moisty morning." The 
house of assembly breaks up — air — "The owls came out and 
flew about." Assembly-men embark on their way to New- 
York air " The ducks and the geese they all swam over, 

fal, de ral," &c. Vessel sets sail — chorus of mariners— 

' ' Steer her up, and let her gang." After this a rapid move- 
ment conducts you to New York ; — the North-river society hold 
a meeting at the corner of Wall-street, and determine to delay 
burning till all the assembly-men are safe home, for fear of 
consuming some of their own members who belong to that re- 
spectable body. Eeturn again to the capital. — Ice floats down 
the river; lamentation of skaters; air, ajfetuosso — "I sigh and 
lament me in vain," &c. — Albanians cutting up sturgeon;— air, 



126 SALE A G UNDL 

"O the roast beef of Albany. " — Ice runs against Polopoy!s 
island, with a terrible crash.— This is represented toy a fierce 
fellow travelling with his fiddle-stick over a huge bass viol, at 
the rate t of one hundred and fifty bars a minute, and tearing the 
music to rags; — this being what is called execution. — The great 
body of ice passes West-point, and is saluted by three or four 
dismounted cannon, from Fort Putnam. — "Jefferson's march" 
by a full band; — air, "Yankee doodle," with seventy-six varia- 
tions, never before attempted, except by the celebrated eagle, 
which flutters his wings over the copper-bottomed angel at 
Messrs. PafFs in Broadway. Ice passes New-York : conch-shell 
sounds at a distance — ferrymen calls o-v-e-r ; — people run down 

Courtlandt-street — ferry-boat sets sail air — accompanied by 

the conch-shell— "We'll all go over the ferry." — Rondeau — 
giving a particular account of Brom the Powles-hook admiral, 
who is supposed to be closely connected with the North-river 
society.— The society make a grand attempt to fire the stream, 
but are utterly defeated by a remarkable high tide, which 
brings the plot to light; drowns upwards of a thousand rats, 
and occasions twenty robins to break their necks.* — Society 
not being discouraged, apply to " Common Sense," for his lan- 
tern; Air — "Nose, nose, jolly red nose." Flock of wild 

geese fly over the city ; — old wives chatter in the fog — cocks 
crow at Communipaw — drums beat on Governor's island. — 
The whole to conclude with the blowing up of Sand's powder- 
house. 

Thus, sir, you perceive what wonderful powers of expression 
have been hitherto locked up in this enchanting art : — a whole 
history is here told without the aid of speech, or writing ; and 
provided the hearer is in the least acquainted with music, he 
cannot mistake a single note. As to the blowing up of the 
powder-house, I look upon it as a chef (Touvre, which I am 
confident will delight all modern amateurs, who very properly 
estimate music in proportion to the noise it makes, and delight 
in thundering cannon and earthquakes. 

I must confess, however, it is a difficult part to manage, and 
I have already broken six pianos in giving it the proper force 
and effect. But I do not despair, and am quite certain that by 
the time I have broken eight or ten more, I shall have brought 
it to such perfection, as to be able to teach any young lady of 
tolerable ear, to thunder it away to the infinite delight of papa 

* Vide—Solomon Lang. 



SALMAGUNDI. 127 

and mamma, and the great annoyance of those Vandals, who 
are so barbarous as to prefer the simple melody of a Scots air, 
to the sublime effusions of modern musical doctors. 

In my warm anticipations of future improvement, I have 
sometimes almost convinced myself that music will, in time, 
be brought to such a climax of perfection, as to supersede the 
necessity of speeph and writing; and every kind of social 
intercourse be conducted by the flute and fiddle. — The immense 
benefits that will result from this improvement must be plain 
to every man of the least consideration. In the present un- 
happy situation of mortals, a man has but one way of making 
himself perfectly understood; if he loses his speech, he must 
inevitably be dumb all the rest of his life; but having once 
learned this new musical language, the loss of speech will be a 
mere trifle not worth a moment's uneasiness. Not only this, 
Mr. L., but it will add much to the harmony of domestic inter- 
course ; for it is certainly much more agreeable to hear a lady 
give lectures on the piano than, viva voce, in the usual discord, 
ant measure. This manner of discoursing may also, I think, 
be introduced with great effect into our national assemblies, 
where every man, instead of wagging his tongue, should be 
obliged to flourish a fiddle-stick, by which means, if he said 
nothing to the purpose, he would, at all events, " discourse 
most eloquent music," which is more than can be said of most 
of them at present. They might also sound their own trumpets 
without being obliged to a hireling scribbler, for an immortality 
of nine days, or subjected to the censure of egotism. 

But the most important result of this discovery is that it 
may be applied to the establishment of that great desideratum, 
in the learned world, a universal language. Wherever this 
science of music is cultivated, nothing more will be necessary 
than a knowledge of its alphabet; which being almost the 
same everywhere, will amount to a universal medium of com- 
munication. A man may thus, with his violin under his arm, 
a piece of rosin, and a few bundles of catgut, fiddle his way 
through the world, and never be at a loss to make himself 
understood. 

I am, etc. 

Demy Semiquaver. 



[end op vol. one.] 



SALMAGUNDI. 



VOLUME TWO. 



NOTE BY THE PUBLISHER. 

Without the knowledge or permission of the authors, and which, if he dared, he 
would have placed near where their remarks are made on the great difference of 
manners which exists between the sexes now, from what it did in the days of our 
grandames. The danger of that cheek-by-jowl familiarity of the present day, must 
be obvious to many ; and I think the following a strong example of one of its evils. 

EXTRACTED FROM " THE MIRROR OF THE GRACES." 

"I remember the Count M- , one of the most accomplished 

and handsomest young men in Vienna ; when I was there he 
was passionately in love with a girl of almost peerless beauty. 
She was the daughter of a man of great rank, and great influ- 
ence at court ; and on these considerations, as well as in regard 
to her charms, she was followed by a multitude of suitors. 
She was lively and amiable, and treated them all with an affa- 
bility which still kept them in her train, although it was gener- 
ally known she had avowed a partiality for Count M ; and 

that preparations were making for their nuptials. The Count 
was of a refined mind, and a delicate sensibility ; he loved her 
for herself alone : for the virtues which he believed dwelt in 
her beautiful form ; and, like a lover of such perfections, he 
never approached her without timidity ; and when he touched 
her, a fire shot through his veins, that warned him not to 
invade the vermillion sanctuary of her lips. Such were his 
feelings when, one evening, at his intended father-in-law's, a 
party of young people were met to celebrate a certain festival ; 
several of the young lady's rejected suitors were present. For- 
feits were one of the pastimes, and all went on with the great- 
est merriment, till the Count was commanded, by some witty 



130 SALMAGUNDI. 

mam'selle, to redeem his glove by saluting the cheek of his 
intended bride. The Count blushed, trembled, advanced, 
retreated; again advanced to his mistress;— and,— at last,— 
with a tremor that shook his whole soul, and every fibre of his 
frame, with a modest and diffident grace, he took the soft 
ringlet which played upon her cheek, pressed it to his lips, and 
retired to demand his redeemed pledge in the most evident 
confusion. His mistress gaily smiled, and the game went on. 

"One of her rejected suitors who was of a merry, unthink- 
ing disposition, was adjudged by the same indiscreet crier of 
the forfeits as "his last treat before he hanged himself" to 
snatch a kiss from the object of his recent vows. A lively con- 
test ensued between the gentleman and lady, which lasted for 
more than a minute ; but the lady yielded, though in the midst 
of a convulsive laugh. 

"The Count had the mortification — the agony — to see the 
lips, which his passionate and delicate love would not permit 
him to touch, kissed with roughness, and repetition, by 
another man :— even by one whom he really despised. Mourn- 
fully and silently, without a word, he rose from his chair— left 
the room and the house. By that good-natured kiss the fair 
boast of Vienna lost her lover— lost her husband. The Count 

NEVER SAW HER MORE." 



SALMAGUNDI. 131 



NO. XL-TUESDAY, JUNE 2, 1807. 



LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB EELI KHAN, 

CAPTAIN OF A KETCH, TO ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL SLAVE- 
DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESS THE BASHAW OF TRIPOLI. 

The deep shadows of midnight gather around me ; — the foot- 
steps of the passengers have ceased in the streets, and nothing 
disturbs the holy silence of the hour save the sound of distant 
drums, mingled with the shouts, the bawlings, and the discord- 
ant revelry of his majesty, the sovereign mob. Let the hour 
be sacred to friendship, and consecrated to thee, oh, thou 
brother of my inmost soul ! 

Oh, Asem ! I almost shrink at the recollection of the scenes 
of confusion, of licentious disorganization, which I have wit- 
nessed during the last three days. I have beheld this whole 
city, nay, this whole state, given up to the tongue, and the 
pen; to the puffers, the bawlers, the babblers, and the slang- 
whangers. I have beheld the community convulsed with a 
civil war, or civil talk ; individuals verbally massacred, f ami 
lies annihilated by whole sheets full, and slang- whan gers coolly 
bathing their pens in ink and rioting in tjie slaughter of their 
thousands. I have seen, in short, that awful despot, the peo- 
ple, in the moment of unlimited power, wielding newspapers 
in one hand, and with the other scattering mud and filth 
about, like some desperate lunatic relieved from the restraints 
of his straight waistcoat. I have seen beggars on horseback, 
ragamuffins riding in coaches, and swine seated in places of 
honour ; I have seen liberty ; I have seen equality ; I have seen 
fraternity! — I have seen that great political puppet-show — — 

AN ELECTION. 

A few days ago the friend, whom I have mentioned in some 
of my former letters, called upon me to accompany him to 



132 SALMAGUNDI. 

witness this grand ceremony ; and we forthwith sallied out to 
the polls, as he called them. Though for several weeks before 
this splendid exhibition, nothing else had been talked of, yet I 
do assure thee I was entirely ignorant of its nature ; and when, 
on coming up to a church, my companion informed me we 
were at the poll, I supposed that an election was some great 
religious ceremony like the fast of Eamazan, or the great fes- 
tival of Haraphat, so celebrated in the east. 

My friend, however, undeceived me at once, and entered 
into a long dissertation on the nature and object of an elec- 
tion, the substance of which was nearly to this effect : * ' You 
know," said he, "that this country is engaged in a violent in- 
ternal warfare, and suffers a variety of evils from civil dissen- 
sions. An election is a grand trial of strength, the decisive 
battle, when the belligerents draw out their forces in martial 
array ; when every leader, burning with warlike ardour, and 
encouraged by the shouts and acclamations of tatterdemalions, 
buffoons, dependents, parasites, toad eaters, scrubs, vagrants, 
mumpers, ragamuffins, bravoes, and beggars, in his rear; and 
puffed up by his bellows-blowing slang- whangers, waves gal- 
lantly the banners of faction, and presses forward to office 

AND IMMORTALITY ! 

" For a month or two previous to the critical period which is 
to decide this important affair, the whole community is in a 
ferment. Every man, of whatever rank or degree, such is the 
wonderful patriotism of the people, disinterestedly neglects his 
business, to devote himself to his country ; — and not an insig- 
nificant fellow, but feels himself inspired, on this occasion, 
with as much warmth in favour of the cause he has espoused, 
as if all the comfort of his life, or even his life itself, was de- 
pendent on the issue. Grand councils of war are, in the first 
place, called by the different powers, which are dubbed gen- 
eral meetings, where all the head workmen of the party col- 
lect, and arrange the order of battle; — appoint the different 
commanders, and their subordinate instruments, and furnish 
the funds indispensable for supplying the expenses of the war. 
Inferior councils are next called in the different classes or 
wards; consisting of young cadets, who are candidates for 
offices ; idlers who come there for mere curiosity ; and orators 
who appear for the purpose of detailing all the crimes, the 
faults, or the weaknesses of their opponents, and speaking the 
sense of the meeting, as it is called ; for as the meeting gen- 
erally consists of men whose quota of sense, taken individually 



SALMA G UNDL 133 

would make but a poor figure, these orators are appointed to 
collect it all in a lump ; when I assure you it makes a very 
formidable appearance, and furnishes sufficient matter to spin 
an oration of two or three hours. 

"The orators who declaim at these meetings are, with a 
few exceptions, men of most profound and perplexed ek> 
quence ; who are the oracles of barbers' shops, market-places, 
and porter-houses; and who you may see everyday at the 
corners of the streets, taking honest men prisoners by the but- 
ton, and talking their ribs quite bare without mercy and with- 
out end. These orators, in addressing an audience, generally 
mount a chair, a table, or an empty beer barrel, which last is 
supposed to afford considerable inspiration, and thunder away 
their combustible sentiments at the heads of the audience, 
who are generally so busily employed in smoking, drinking, 
and hearing themselves talk, that they seldom hear a word of 
the matter. This, however, is of little moment; for as they 
come there to agree at all events to a certain set of resolutions, 
or articles of war, it is not at all necessary to hear the speech ; 
more especially as few would understand it if they did. Do 
not suppose, however, that the minor persons of the meeting 
are entirely idle. — Besides smoking and drinking, which are 
generally practised, there are few who do not come with as 
great a desire to talk as the orator himself ; each has his little 
circle of listeners, in the midst of whom he sets his hat on one 
side of his head, and deals out matter-of-fact information ; and 
draws self-evident conclusions, with the pertinacity of a ped- 
ant, and to the great edification of his gaping auditors. Nay, 
the very urchins from the nursery, who are scarcely eman- 
cipated from the dominion of birch, on these occasions strut 
pigmy great men ; — bellow for the instruction of gray-bearded 
ignorance, and, like the frog in the fable, endeavour to puff 
themselves up to the size of the great object of their emulation 
—the principal orator." 

" But is it not preposterous to a degree," cried I, "for those 
puny whipsters to attempt to lecture age and experience \ 
They should be sent to school to learn better." "Not at all," 
replied my friend; "for as an election is nothing more than a 
war of words, the man that can wag his tongue with the 
greatest elasticity, whether he speaks to the purpose or not, 
is entitled to lecture at ward meetings and polls, and instruct 
all who are inclined to listen to him : you may have remarked 
a ward meeting of politic dogs, where although the great dog 



3 34 SALMA G UNBL 

is, ostensibly, the leader, and makes the most noise, yet every 
little scoundrel of a cur has something to say ; and in propoa^- 
tion to his insignificance, fidgets, and worries, and puffs about 
mightily, in order to obtain the notice and approbation of his 
betters. Thus it is with these little, beardless, bread-and-but- 
ter politicians who, on this occasion, escape from the jurisdic- 
tion of their mammas to attend to the affairs of the nation. 
You will see them engaged in dreadful wordy contest with old 
cartmen, cobblers, and tailors, and plume themselves not a lit- 
tle if they should chance to gain a victory. — Aspiring spirits! 
how interesting are the first dawnings of political greatness ! 
an election, my friend, is a nursery or hot-bed of genius in a 
logocracy; and I look with enthusiasm on a troop of these 
Lilliputian partisans, as so many chatterers, and orators, and 
puffers, and slang-whangers in embryo, who will one day take 
an important part in the quarrels, and wordy wars of their 
country. 

" As the time for fighting the decisive battle approaches, ap- 
pearances become more and more alarming; committees are 
appointed, who hold little encampments from whence they 
send out small detachments of tattlers, to reconnoitre, harass, 
and skirmish with the enemy, and if possible, ascertain their 
numbers ; every body seems big with the mighty event that is 
impending; the orators they gradually swell up beyond their 
usual size; the little orators they grow greater and greater; 
the secretaries of the ward committees strut about looking like 
wooden oracles ; the puffers put on the airs of mighty conse- 
quence; the slang-whangers deal out direful innuendoes, and 
threats of doughty import ; and all is buzz, murmur, suspense, 
and sublimity ! 

' 'At length the day arrives. The storm that has been so 
long gathering, and threatening in distant thunders, bursts 
forth in terrible explosion : all business is at an end ; the whole 
city is in a tumult ; the people are running helter-skelter, they 
know not whither, and they know not why; the hackney 
coaches rattle through the streets with thundering vehe- 
mence, loaded with recruiting Serjeants who have been prowl- 
ing in cellars and caves, to unearth some miserable minion of 
poverty and ignorance, who will barter his vote for a glass of 
beer, or a ride in a coach with such fine gentlemen! — the buz- 
zards of the party scamper from poll to poll, on foot or on 
horseback ; and they worry from committee to committee, and 
buzz, and fume, and talk big, and— do nothing : like the vaga- 



SALMA G UNBL 1 35 

bond drone, who wastes his time in the laborious idleness of 
see-saw-song, and busy nothingness." 

I know not how long my friend would have continued his 
detail, had he not been interrupted by a squabble which took 
placed between two old continentals, as they were called. It 
seems they had entered into an argument on the respective 
merits of their cause, and not being able to make each other 
clearly understood, resorted to what is called knock-down ar- 
guments, which form the superlative degree of argumentum 
adhominem; but are, in my opinion, extremely inconsistent 
with the true spirit of a genuine logocracy. After they had 
beaten each other soundly, and set the whole mob together by 
the ears, they came to a full explanation; when it was discov- 
ered that they were both of the same way of thinking; — where- 
upon they shook each other heartily by the hand, and laughed 
with great glee at their humorous misunderstanding. 

I could not help being struck with the exceeding great num- 
ber of ragged, dirty-looking persons that swaggered about the 
place and seemed to think themselves the bashaws of the land. 
I inquired of my friend, if these people were employed to drive 
away the hogs, dogs, and other intruders that might thrust 
themselves in and interrupt the ceremony? u Byno means," 
replied he; " these are the representatives of the sovereign 
people, who come here to make governors, senators, and mem- 
bers of assembly, and are the source of all power and authority 
in this nation." " Preposterous !" said I, "how is it possible 
that such men can be capable of distinguishing between an 
honest man and a knave ; or even if they were, will it not 
always happen that they are led by the nose by some intrig- 
uing demagogue, and made the mere tools of ambitious political 
jugglers? Surely it would be better to trust to providence, or 
even to chance, for governors, than resort to the discriminat- 
ing powers of an ignorant mob. — I plainly perceive the con- 
sequence. A man who possesses superior talents, and that 
honest pride which ever accompanies this possession, will al- 
ways be sacrificed to some creeping insect who will prostitute 
himself to familiarity with the lowest of mankind ; and, like 
the idolatrous Egyptian, worship the wallowing tenants of 
filth and mire." 

" All this is true enough," replied my friend, "but after all, 
you cannot say but that this is a free country, and that the 
people can get drunk cheaper here, particularly at elections, 
than in the despotic countries of the east." I could not, with 



136 SALMAGUNDI. 

any degree of propriety or truth, deny this last assertion ; for 
just at that moment a patriotic brewer arrived with a load of 
beer, which, for a moment, occasioned a cessation of argu- 
ment. The great crowd of buzzards, puffers, and "old con- 
tinentals " of all parties, who throng to the polls, to persuade, 
to cheat, or to force the freeholders into the right way, and to 
maintain the freedom of suffrage, seemed for a moment to^ for- 
get their antipathies and joined, heartily, in a copious ^bation 
of this patriotic and argumentative beverage. 

These beer-barrels indeed seem to be most able logicians, 
well stored with that kind of sound argument best suited to 
the comprehension, and most relished by the mob, or sovereign 
people ; who are never so tractable as when operated upon by 
this convincing liquor, which, in fact, seems to be imbued 
with the very spirit of a logocracy. No sooner does it begin 
its operation, than the tongue waxes exceeding valorous, and 
becomes impatient for some mighty conflict. The puffer puts 
himself at the head of his body-guard of buzzards, and his 
legion of ragamuffins, and wo then to every unhappy adver- 
sary who is uninspired by the deity of the beer-barrel — he is 
sure to be talked and argued into complete insignificance. 

While I was making these observations, I was surprised to 
observe a bashaw, high in office, shaking a fellow by the hand, 
that looked rather more ragged than a scare-crow, and inquir- 
ing with apparent solicitude concerning the health of his 
family; after which he slipped a little folded paper into his 
hand, and turned away. I could not help applauding his 
humility in shaking the fellow's hand, and his benevolence in 
relieving his distresses, for I imagined the paper contained 
something for the poor man's necessities ; and truly he seemed 
verging towards the last stage of starvation. My friend, how- 
ever, soon undeceived me by saying that this was an elector, 
and that the bashaw had merely given him the list of candi- 
dates for whom he was to vote. "Ho! ho!" said I, "then he 
is a particular friend of the bashaw?" " By no means," replied 
my friend, "the bashaw will pass him without notice the day 
after the election, except, perhaps, just to drive over him with 
his coach." 

My friend then proceeded to inform me that for some time 
before, and during the continuance of an election, there was a 
most delectable courtship, or intrigue, carried on between the 
great bashaws and the mother mob. That mother mob gener- 
allv preferred the attentions of the rabble, or of fellows of her 



* 



SALMAGUNDI. 137 

own stamp ; but would sometimes condescend to be treated to a 
feasting, or any thing of that kind, at the bashaw's expense ; 
nay, sometimes when she was in good humour, she would con- 
descend to toy with them in her rough way : — but wo be to the 
bashaw who attempted to be familiar with her, for she was the 
most pestilent, cross, crabbed, scolding, thieving, scratching, 
toping, wrong-headed, rebellious, and abominable termagant 
that ever was let loose in the world, to the confusion of honest 
gentlemen bashaws. 

Just then a fellow came round and distributed among the 
crowd a number of hand-bills, written by the ghost of Wash- 
ington, the fame of whose illustrious actions, and still more 
illustrious virtues, has reached even the remotest regions of 
the east, and who is venerated by this people as the Father of 
his country. On reading this paltry paper, I could not re- 
strain my indignation. " Insulted hero," cried I, "is it thus 
thy name is profaned, thy memory disgraced, thy spirit drawn 
down from heaven to administer to the brutal violence of 
party rage ! — It is thus the necromancers of the east, by their 
infernal incantations, sometimes call up the shades of the just, 
to give their sanction to frauds, to lies, and to every species of 
enormity." My friend smiled at my warmth, and observed, 
that raising ghosts, and not only raising them, but making them 
speak, was one of the miracles of elections. "And believe 
me," continued he, "there is good reason for the ashes of 
departed heroes being disturbed on these occasions, for such 
is the sandy foundation of our government, that there never 
happens an election of an alderman, or a collector, or even a 
constable, but we are in imminent danger of losing our liber- 
ties, and becoming a province of France, or tributary to the 
British islands." "By the hump of Mahomet's camel," said I, 
"but this is only another striking example of the prodigious 
great scale on which everything is transacted in this country!" 

By this time, I had become tired of the scene; my head 
ached with the uproar of voices, mingling in all the discordant 
tones of triumphant exclamation, nonsensical argument, in- 
temperate reproach, and drunken absurdity.— The confusion 
was such as no language can adequately describe, and it seemed 
as if all the restraints of decency, and all the bands of law, 
had been broken, and given place to the wide ravages of licen- 
tious brutality. These, thought I, are the orgies of liberty! 
these are the manifestations of the spirit of independence! 
these are the symbols of man's sovereignty ! Head of Maho- 



138 SALMAGUNDI 

met! with what a fatal and inexorable despotism do empty 
names and ideal phantoms exercise their dominion over the 
human mind ! The experience of ages has demonstrated, that 
in all nations, barbarous or enlightened, the mass of the people, 
the mob, must be slaves, or they will be tyrants; but their 
tyranny will not be long:— some ambitious leader, having at 
first condescended to be their slave, will at length become their 
master ; and in proportion to the vileness of his former servi- 
tude, will be the severity of his subsequent tyranny.— Yet, 
with innumerable examples staring them in the face, the 
people still bawl out liberty ; by which they mean nothing but 
freedom from every species of legal restraint, and a warrant 
for all kinds of licentiousness : and the bashaws and leaders, 
in courting the mob, convince them of their power; and by 
administering to their passions, for the purposes of ambition, 
at length learn, by fatal experience, that he who worships the 
beast that carries him on his back, will sooner or later be 
thrown into the dust and trampled under foot by the animal 
who has learnt the secret of its power by this very adoration. 

Ever thine, 

Mustapha. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

MINE UNCLE JOHN. 

To those whose habits of abstraction may have led them 
into some of the secrets of their own minds, and whose free- 
dom from daily toil has left them at leisure to analyze their 
feelings, it will be nothing new to say that the present is pecu- 
liarly the season of remembrance. The flowers, the zephyrs, 
and the warblers of spring, returning after their tedious ab- 
sence, bring naturally to our recollection past times and buried 
feelings; and the whispers of the full-foliaged grove, fall on 
the ear of contemplation, like the sweet tones of far distant 
friends whom the rude j ostlers of the world have severed from 
us and cast far beyond our reach. It is at such times, that 
casting backward many a lingering look we recall, with a 
kind of sweet-souled melancholy, the days of our youth, and 
the jocund companions who started with us the race of life, 
but parted midway in the journey to pursue some winding 



SALMAGUNDI. 139 

path that allured them with a prospect more seducing— and 
never returned to us again. It is then, too, if we have been 
afflicted with any heavy sorrow, if we have even lost— and 
who has not! — an old friend, or chosen companion, that his 
shade will ^hover around us ; the memory of his virtues press 
on the heart ; and a thousand endearing recollections, forgotten 
amidst the cold pleasures and midnight dissipations of winter, 
arise to our remembrance. 

These speculations bring to my mind my uncle jokn, the 
history of whose loves, and disappointments, I have promised 
to the world. Though I must own myself much addicted to 
forgetting my promises, yet, as I have been so happily re- 
minded of this, I believ?e I must pay it at once, "and there is 
an end." Lest my readers — good-natured souls that they are! 
— should, in the ardour of peeping into millstones, take my 
uncle for an old acquaintance, I here inform them, that the 
old gentleman died a great many years ago, and it is impossi- 
ble they should ever have known him: — I pity them — for they 
would have known a good-natured, benevolent man, whose 
example might have been of service. 

The last time I saw my uncle John was fifteen years ago, 
when I paid him a visit at his old mansion. I found him read- 
ing a newspaper — for it was election time, and he was always 
a warm federalist, and had made several converts to the true 
political faith in his time ; — particularly one old tenant, who 
always, just before the election, became a violent anti; — in 
order that he might be convinced of his errors by my uncle, 
who never failed to reward his conviction by some substantial 
benefit. 

After we had settled the affairs of the nation, and I had paid 
my respects to the old family chronicles in the kitchen, — an 
indispensable ceremony, — the old gentleman exclaimed, with 
heart-felt glee, u Well, I suppose you are for a trout-fishing;— 
I have got every thing prepared ; — but first you must take a 
walk with me to see my improvements." I was obliged to 
consent; though I knew my uncle would lead me a most 
villainous dance, and in all probability treat me to a quagmire, 
or a tumble into a ditch. If my readers choose to accompany 
me in this expedition, they are welcome; if not, let them stpy 
at home like lazy fellows— and sleep— or be hanged. 

Though I had been absent several years, yet there was very 
little alteration in the scenery, and every object retained the 
same features it bore when I was a school-boy : for it was in 



140 SALMAGUNDI. 

this spot that I grew up in the fear of ghosts, and in the break- 
ing of many of the ten commandments. The brook, or river 
as they would call it in Europe, still murmured with its wonted 
sweetness through the meadow ; and its banks were still tufted 
with dwarf willows, that bent down to the surface. The same 
echo inhabited the valley, and the same tender air of repose 
pervaded the whole scene. Even my good uncle was but little 
altered, except that his hair was grown a little grayer, and his 
forehead had lost some of its former smoothness. He had, 
however, lost nothing of his former activity, and laughed 
heartily at the difficulty I found hi keeping up with him as he 
stumped through bushes, and briers, and hedges; talking all 
the time about his improvements, and telling what he would 
do with such a spot of ground and such a tree. At length, 
after showing me his stone fences, his famous two-year-old 
bull, his new invented cart, which was to go before the horse, 
and his Eclipse colt, he was pleased to return home to dinner. 

After dinner and returning thanks, — which with him was 
not a ceremony merely, but an offering from the heart, — my 
uncle opened his trunk, took out his fishing-tackle, and, with- 
out saying a word, sallied forth with some of those truly 
alarming steps which Daddy Neptune once took when he was 
in a great hurry to attend to the affair of the siege of Troy. 
Trout-fishing was my uncle's favourite sport ; and^ though I 
always caught two fish to his one, he never would acknowl- 
edge my superiority ; but puzzled himself often and often to 
account for such a singular phenomenon. 

Following the current of the brook for a mile or two, we re- 
traced many of our old haunts, and told a hundred adventures 
which had befallen us at different times. It was like snatch- 
ing the hour-glass of time, inverting it, and rolling back again 
the sands that had marked the lapse of years. At length the 
shadows began to lengthen, the south-wind gradually settled 
into a perfect calm, the sun threw his rays through the trees 
ton the hill-tops in golden lustre, and a kind of Sabbath still- 
ness pervaded the whole valley, indicating that the hour was 
fast approaching which was to relieve for a while the farmer 
from his rural labour, the ox from his toil, the school-urchin 
from his primer, and bring the loving ploughman home to the 
feet of his blooming dairymaid. 

As we were watching in silence the last rays of the sun, 
beaming their farewell radiance on the high hills at a distance, 
my uncle exclaimed, in a kind of half -desponding tone, while 



SALMAGUNDI. 141 

lie rested his arm over an old tree that had fallen— " I know 
not how it is, my dear Launce, but such an evening, and such 
a still quiet scene as this, always make me a little sad ; and it 
is, at such a time, I am most apt to look forward with regret 
to the period when this farm, on which " 1 have been young, 
but now am old," and every object around me that is endeared 
by long acquaintance, — when all these and I must shake hands 
and part. I have no fear of death, for my life has afforded 
but little temptation to wickedness ; and when I die, I hope to 
leave behind me more substantial proofs of virtue than will 
be found in my epitaph, and more lasting memorials than 
churches built or hospitals endowed ; with wealth wrung from 
the hard hand of poverty by an unfeeling landlord or unprin- 
cipled knave; — hut still, when I pass such a day as this and 
contemplate such a scene, I cannot "help feeling a latent wish 
to linger yet a little longer in this peaceful asylum ; to enjoy a 
little more sunshine in this world, and to have a few more 
fishing-matches with my boy." As he ended he raised his 
hand a little from the fallen tree, and dropping it languidly by 
his side, turned himself towards home. The sentiment, the 
look, the action, all seemed to be prophetic. And so they 
were, for when I shook him by the hand and bade him fare- 
well the next morning— it was for the last time ! 

He died a bachelor, at the age of sixty-three, though he had 
been all his life trying to get married; and always thought 
himself on the point of accomplishing his wishes. His dis- 
appointments were not owing either to the deformity of his 
mind or person ; for in his youth he was reckoned handsome, 
and I myself can witness for him that he had as kind a heart 
as ever was fashioned by heaven ; neither were they owing to 
his poverty, — which sometimes stands in an honest man's 
way; — for he was born to the inheritance of a small estate 
which was sufficient to establish his claim to the title of ' fc one 
well-to-do in the world." The truth is, my uncle had a prodig- 
ious antipathy to doing things in a hurry. — "A man should 
consider," said he to me once— " that he can always get a wife, 
but cannot always get rid of her. For my part, " continued 
he, "I am a young fellow, with the world before me," — he was 
but about forty! — "and am resolved to look sharp, weigh 
matters well, and know what's what, before I marry: — in 
short, Launce, I don't intend to do the thing in a hurry, depend 
upon it." On this whim-wham, he proceeded: he began with 
young girls, and ended with widows. The girls he courted 
until they grew old maids, or married out of pure apprehen- 



142 SALMAGUNDI. 

sion of incurring certain penalties hereafter ; and the widows 
not having quite as much patience, generally, at the end of a 
year, while the good man thought himself in the high road to 
success, married some harum-scarum young fellow, who had 
not such an antipathy to doing things in a hurry. 

My uncle would have inevitably sunk under these repeated 
disappointments — for he did not want sensibility— had he not 
hit upon a discovery which set all to rights at once. He con- 
soled his vanity,— for he was a little vain, and soothed his 
pride, which was his master-passion,— by telling his friends 
very significantly, while his eye would flash triumph, " that he 
might have had her. "—Those who know how much of the bitter- 
ness of disappointed affection arises from wounded vanity and 
exasperated pride, will give my uncle credit for this discovery. 

My uncle had been told by a prodigious number of married 
men. and had read in an innumerable quantity of books, that 
a man could not possibly be happy except in the married state; 
so he determined at an early age to marry, that he might not 
lose his only chance for happiness. He accordingly forthwith 
paid his addresses to the daughter of a neighbouring gentleman 
farmer, who was reckoned the beauty of the whole world ; a 
phrase by which the honest country people mean nothing more 
than the circle of their acquaintance, or that territory of land 
which is within sight of the smoke of their own hamlet. 

This young lady, in addition to her beauty, was highly ac- 
complished, for she had spent five or six months at a boarding- 
school in town ; where she learned to work pictures in satin, 
and paint sheep that might be mistaken for wolves ; to hold up 
her head, sit straight in her chair, and to think every species 
of useful acquirement beneath her attention. When she re- 
turned home, so completely had she forgotten every thing she 
knew before, that on seeing one of the maids milking a cow, 
she asked her father, with an air of most enchanting ignorance, 
" what that odd-looking thing was doing to that queer animal?" 
The old man shook his head at this; but the mother was de- 
lighted at these symptoms of gentility, and so enamoured of 
her daughter's accomplishments that she actually got framed a 
picture worked in satin by the young lady. It represented 
the Tomb Scene in Romeo and Juliet. Eomeo was dressed in 
an orange-coloured cloak, fastened round his neck with a large 
golden clasp; a white satin tamboured waistcoat, leather 
breeches, blue silk stockings, and white topt boots. The ami- 
able Juliet shone in a flame-coloured gown, most gorgeously 
bespangled with silver stars, a high-crowned muslin cap thai 



At ALMA (t ujsdl 143 

reached to the top of the tomb ;— on her feet she wore a pair of 
short-quartered, high-heeled shoes, and her waist was ihe exast 
fac-simile of an inverted sugar-loaf. The head of the "noble 
county Paris" looked like a chimney-sweeper's brush that had 
lost its handle ; and the cloak of the good Friar hung about him 
as gracefully as the armour of a rhinoceros. The good lady 
considered this picture as a splendid proof of her daughter's 
accomplishments, and hung it up in the best parlour, as an 
honest tradesman does his certificate of admission into that en- 
lightened body yclept the Mechanic Society. 

With this accomplished young lady then did my uncle John 
become deeply enamoured, and as it was his first love, he de- 
termined to bestir himself in an extraordinary manner. Once 
at least in a fortnight, and generally on a Sunday evening, he 
would put on his leather breeches, for he was a great beau, 
mount his gray horse Pepper, and ride over to see Miss Pamela, 
though she lived upwards of a mile off, and he was obliged to 
pass close by a church-yard, which at least a hundred credita- 
ble persons would swear was haunted ! — Miss Pamela could not 
be insensible to such proofs of attachment, and accordingly 
received him w ith considerable kindness ; her mother always 
left the room when he came, and my uncle had as good as 
made a declaration, by saying one evening, very signifi- 
cantly, " that he believed that he should soon change his con- 
dition;" when, some how or other, he began to think he was 
doing things in too great a hurry, and that it was high time to 
consider ; so he considered near a month about it, and there is 
no saying how much longer he might have spun the thread of 
his doubts had he not been roused from this state of indecision 
by the news that his mistress had married an attorney's ap- 
prentice whom she had seen the Sunday before at church ; where 
he had excited the applause of the whole congregation by the 
invincible gravity with which he listened to a Dutch sermon. 
The young people in the neighbourhood laughed a good deal at 
my uncle on the occasion, but he only shrugged his shoulders, 
looked mysterious, and replied, " Tail, boys! I might have had 
her." 

NOTE BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

Our publisher, who is busily engaged in printing a celebrated work, which is per- 
haps more generally read in this city than any other book, not excepting the Bible; 
—I mean the New York Directory— has begged so hard that we will not overwhelm 
him with too much of a good thing, that we have, with Langstaff's approbation, 
cut short the residue of uncle John's amours. In all probability it will be given in 
a future number, whenever Launeelot is in the humour for it— he is such an odd-- 
but, mum— for fear of another suspension. 



114 SALMAGUNDI. 



NO. XII -SATURDAY, JUNE.27, 180?. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

Some men delight in the study of plants, in the dissection of 
a leaf , or the contour and complexion of a tulip;— others are 
charmed with the beauties of the feathered race, or the varied 
hues of the insect tribe. A naturalist will spend hours in the 
fatiguing pursuit of a butterfly, and a man of the ton will 
waste whole years in the chase of a fine lady. I feel a respect 
for their avocations, for my own are somewhat similar. I love 
to open the great volume of human character:— to me the ex- 
amination of a beau is more interesting than that of a Daffodil 
or Narcissus; and I feel a thousand times more pleasure in 
catching a new view of human nature, than in kidnapping the 
most gorgeous butterfly, — even an Emperor of Morocco himself ! 

In my present situation I have ample room for the indul- 
gence of this taste ; for, perhaps, there is not a house in this 
city more fertile in subjects for the anatomist of human char- 
acter, than my cousin Cockloft's. Honest Christopher, as I 
have before mentioned, is one of those hearty old cavaliers 
who pride themselves upon keeping up the good, honest, un- 
ceremonious hospitality of old times. — He is never so happy as 
when he has drawn about him a knot of sterling-hearted asso 
ciates, and sits at the head of his table dispensing a warm, 
cheering welcome to all. His countenance expands at every 
glass and beams forth emanations of hilarity, benevolence, and 
good-fellowship, that inspire and gladden every guest around 
him. It is no wonder, therefore, that such excellent social 
qualities should attract a host of friends and guests ; in fact, 
my cousin is almost overwhelmed with them ; and they all, 
uniformly, pronounce old Cockloft to be one of the finest old 
fellows in the world. His wine also always comes in for a good 
share of their approbation ; nor do they forget to do honour to 



SALMA G UNDL 145 

Mrs. Cockloft's cookery, pronouncing it to be modelled after 
the most approved recipes of Heliogabulus and Mrs. Glasse. 
The variety of company thus attracted is particularly pleasing 
to me ; for, being considered a privileged person in the f amily , 
I can sit in a corner, indulge in my favourite amusement of 
observation, and retreat to my elbow-chair, like a bee to his 
hive, whenever I have collected sufficient food for meditation. 

Will Wizard is particularly efficient in adding to the stock 
of originals which frequent our house : for he is one of the most 
inveterate hunters of oddities I ever knew ; and his first care, 
on making a new acquaintance, is to gallant him to old Cock- 
loft's, where he never fails to receive the freedom of the house 
in a pinch from his gold box:. Will has, without exception, 
the queerest, most eccentric, and indescribable set of intimates 
that ever man possessed ; how he became acquainted with' them 
I cannot conceive, except by supposing there is a secret attrac- 
tion or unintelligible sympathy that unconsciously draws to- 
gether oddities of every soil. 

Will's great crony for some time was Tom Straddle, to whom 
he really took a great liking. Straddle had just arrived in an 
importation of hardware, fresh from the city of Birmingham, 
or rather, as the most learned English would call it, Brumma- 
gem, so famous for its manufactories of gimblets, pen-knives, 
and pepper-boxes ; and where fchey make buttons and beaux 
enough to inundate our whole eountry. He was a young man 
of considerable standing in the manufactory at Birmingham, 
sometimes had the honour to hand his master's daughter into 
a tim-whiskey , was the oracle of the tavern he frequented on 
Sundays, and could beat all his associates, if you would take 
his word for it, in boxing, beer- drinking, jumping over chairs, 
and imitating cats in a gutter and opera singers. Straddle 
was, moreover, a member of a Catch-club, and was a great 
hand at ringing bob-majors; he was, of course, a complete con- 
noisseur of music, and entitled to assume that character at all 
performances in the art. He was likewise a member of a 
Spouting-club, had seen a company of strolling actors perform 
in a barn, and had even, like Abel Drugger, ' ' enacted" the part 
of Major Sturgeon with considerable applause; he was conse- 
quently a profound critic, and fully authorized to turn up Ins 
nose at any American performances. — He had twice partaken 
of annual dinners, given to the head manufacturers of Binning- 
ham, where he had the good fortune to get a taste of turtle 
and turbot ; and a smack of Champaign and Burgundy ; and he 



146 SALMAGUNDI, 

had heard a vast deal of the roast beef of Old England ; he was 

therefore epicure sufficient to d n every dish, and every 

glass of wine, he tasted in America ; though at the same time 
he was as voracious an animal as ever crossed the Atlantic. 
Straddle had been splashed half a dozen times by the carriages 
of nobility, and had once the superlative felicity of being 
kicked out of doors by the footman of a noble Duke ; he could, 
therefore, talk of nobility and despise the untitled plebeians of 
America. In short, Straddle was one of those dapper, bustling, 
florid, round, self-important u gemmen" who bounce upon us 
half beau, half button-maker; undertake to give us the true 
polish of the bon-ton, and endeavour to inspire us with a pro- 
per and dignified contempt of our native country. 

Straddle was quite in raptures when his employers deter- 
mined to send him to America as an agent. He considered 
himself as going among a nation of barbarians, where he would 
be received as a prodigy; he anticipated, with a proud satisfac- 
tion, the bustle and confusion his arrival would occasion; the 
crowd that would throng to gaze at him as he passed through 
the streets; and had little doubt but that he should occasion as 
much curiosity as an Indian-chief or a Turk in the streets of 
Birmingham. He had heard of the beauty of our women, and 
chuckled at the thought of how completely he should eclipse 
their unpolished beaux, and the number of despairing lovers 
that would mourn the hour of his arrival. I am even informed 
by Will Wizard that he put good store of beads, spike-nails, 
and looking-glasses in his trunk to win the affections of the 
fair ones as they paddled about in their bark canoes ; — the rea- 
son Will gave for this error of Straddle's, respecting our ladies, 
was, that he had read in Guthrie's Geography that the abo- 
rigines of America were all savages, and not exactly under- 
standing the word aborigines, he applied to one of his fellow 
apprentices, who assured him that it was the Latin word for 
inhabitants. 

Wizard used to tell another anecdote of Straddle, which 
always put him in a passion ; Will swore that the captain of 
the ship told him, that when Straddle heard they were off the 
banks of Newfoundland, he insisted upon going on shore there 
to gather some good cabbages, of which he was excessively 
fond ; Straddle, however, denied all this, and declared it to be 
a mischievous quiz of Will Wizard; who indeed often made 
himself merry at his expense. However this may be, certain 
it is, he kept his tailor and shoemaker constantly employed for 



SALMAGUNDI. 147 

a month before his departure ; equipped himself with a smart 
crooked stick about eighteen inches long, a pair of breeches of 
most unheard-of length, a little short pair of Hoby's white- 
topped boots, that seemed to stand on tip-toe to reach his 
breeches, and his hat had the true trans-atlantic declination 
towards his right ear. The fact was, nor did he make any se- 
cret of it— he was determined to " astonish the natives a few/" 

Straddle was not a -little disappointed on his arrival, to find 
the Americans were rather more civilized than he had imag- 
ined ; — he was suffered to walk to his lodgings unmolested by a 
crowd, and even unnoticed by a single individual ; — no love- 
letters came pouring in upon him ; no rivals lay in waia to 
assassinate him ; his very dress excited no attention, for there 
were many fools dressed equally ridiculously with himself. 
This was mortifying indeed to an aspiring youth, wlio had 
come out with the idea of astonishing and captivating. 
He was equally unfortunate in his pretensions to the char- 
acter of critic, connoisseur, and boxer; he condemned our 
whole dramatic corps, and everything appertaining to the 
theatre; but his critical abilities were ridiculed— he found fault 
with old Cockloft's dinner, not even sparing his wine, and was 
never invited to the house afterwards;— he scoured the streets 
at night, and was cudgelled by a sturdy watchman ; — he hoaxed 
an honest mechanic, and was soundly kicked. Thus disap- 
pointed in all his attempts at notoriety, Straddle hit on the ex- 
pedient which was resorted to by the Giblets— he determined 
to take the town by storm. — He accordingly bought horses and 
equipages, and forthwith made a furious dash at style in a gig 
and tandem. 

As Straddle's finances were but limited, it may easily be sup- 
posed that his fashionable career infringed a little upon his con- 
signment, which was indeed the case, for, to use a true cockney 
phrase, Brummagem suffered. But this was a circumstance 
that made little impression upon Straddle, who was now a lad 
of spirit, and lads of spirit always despise the sordid cares of 
keeping another man's money. Suspecting this circumstance, 
I never could witness any of his exhibitions of style, without 
some whimsical association of ideas. Did he give an entertain- 
ment to a host of guzzling friends, I immediately fancied them 
gormandizing heartily at the expense of poor Birmingham, 
and swallowing a consignment of hand-saws and razors. Did 
I behold him dashing through Broadway in Iris gig, I saw him, 
u in my mind's eye," driving tandem on a nest of tea-boards; 



148 8 ALMA G UNDI. 

nor could I ever contemplate his cockney exhibitions of horse- 
manship, but my mischievous imagination would picture him 
spurring a cask of hardware like rosy Bacchus bestriding a 
beer barrel, or the little gentleman who bestraddles the world 
in the front of Hutching's almanac. 

Straddle was equally successful with the Giblets, as may 
well be supposed ; for though pedestrian merit may strive in 
vain to become fashionable in Gotham, yet a candidate in an 
equipage is always recognized, and like Philip's ass, laden 
with gold, will gain admittance every where. Mounted in his 
curricle or his gig, the candidate is like a statue elevated on a 
high pedestal ; his merits are discernible from afar, and strike 
the dullest optics. Oh! Gotham, Gotham! most enlightened 
of cities !— how does my heart swell with delight when I be- 
hold your sapient inhabitants lavishing their attention with 
such wonderful discernment ! 

Thus Straddle became quite a man of ton, and was caressed, 
and courted, and invited to dinners and balls. Whatever was 
absurd and ridiculous in him before, was now declared to be 
the style. He criticised our theatre, and was listened to with 
reverence. He pronounced our musical entertainments bar- 
barous ; and the judgment of Apollo himself would not have 
been more decisive. He abused our dinners ; and the god of 
eating, if there be any such deity, seemed to speak through his 
organs. He became at once a man of taste, for he put his 
malediction on every thing; and his arguments were conclus- 
ve, for he supported every assertion with a bet. He was like- 
wise pronounced, by the learned in' the fashionable world, a 
young man of great research and deep observation ; for he had 
sent home, as natural curiosities, an ear of Indian corn, a pair 
of moccasons, a belt of wampum, and a four-leaved clover. He 
had taken great pains to enrich this curious collection with an 
Indian, and a cataract, but without success. In fine, the peo- 
ple talked of Straddle and his equipage, and Straddle talked of 
his horses, until it was impossible for the most critical observer 
to pronounce, whether Straddle or* his horses were most ad- 
mired, or whether Straddle admired himself or his horses most. 

Straddle was now in the zenith of his glory. He swaggered 
about parlours and drawing-rooms with the same unceremoni- 
ous confidence he used to display in the taverns at Birming- 
ham. He accosted a lady as he would a bar-maid, and this 
was pronounced a certain proof that he had been used to bet- 
ter company in Birmingham. He became the great man of all 



8 ALMA G TJNDL 1 49 

the taverns between New-York and Harlem, and no one stood 
a chance of being accommodated, until Straddle and his horses 

were perfectly satisfied. He d d the landlords and waiters, 

with the best air in the world, and accosted them with the 
true gentlemanly familiarity. He staggered from the dinner 
table to the play, entered the box like a tempest, and staid 
long enough to be bored to death, and to bore all those who had 
the misfortune to be near him. From thence he dashed off to a 
ball, time enough to flounder through a cotillion, tear half a 
dozen gowns, commit a number of other depredations, and 
make the whole company sensible of his infinite condescension 
in coming amongst them. The people of Gotham thought him 
a prodigious fine fellow; the young bucks cultivated his 
acquaintance with the most persevering assiduity, and his 
retainers were sometimes complimented with a seat in his cur- 
ricle, or a ride on one of his fine horses. The belles were 
delighted with the attentions of such a fashionable gentleman, 
and struck with astonishment at his learned distinctions be- 
tween wrought scissors and those of cast-steel ; together with 
his profound dissertations on buttons and horse-flesh. The 
rich merchants courted his acquaintance because he was an 
Englishman, and their wives treated him with great deference, 
because he had come from beyond seas. I cannot help here 
observing, that your salt water is a marvellous great sharpener 
of men's wits, and I intend to recommend it to some of my 
acquaintances in a particular essay. 

Straddle continued his brilhant career for only a short time. 
His prosperous journey over the turnpike of fashion was 
checked by some of those stumbling-blocks in the way of aspir- 
ing youth, called creditors— or duns ;— a race of people, who, 
as a celebrated writer observes, " are hated by gods and men." 
Consignments slackened, whispers of distant suspicion floated 
in the dark, and those pests of society, the tailors and shoe- 
makers, rose in rebellion against Straddle. In vain were all 
his remonstrances, in vain did he prove to them .that though 
he had given them no money, yet he had given them more 
custom, and^as many promises, as any young man in the city. 
They were inflexible, and the signal of danger being given, 
a host of other prosecutors pounced upon his back. Straddle 
saw there was but one way for it ; he determined to do the 
thing genteelly, to go to smash like a hero, and dashed into the 
limits in high style, being the fifteenth gentleman I have 
known to drive tandem to the — ne plus ultra — the d 1. 



150 SALMAGUJXJJI. 

Unfortunate Straddle ! may thy fate be a warning to all 
young gentlemen who come out from Birmingham to aston- 
ish the natives! — I should never have taken the trouble to 
dilineate his character had he not been a genuine cockney, 
and worthy to be the representative of his numerous tribe. 
Perhaps my simple countrymen may hereafter be able to 
distinguish between the real English gentleman, and indi= 
viduals of the cast I have heretofore spoken of, as mere mom 
grels, springing at one bound from contemptible obscurity at 
home, to day-light and splendour in this good-natured land. 
The true-born and true-bred English gentleman is a character 
I hold in great respect ; and I love to look back to the period 
when our forefathers nourished in the same generous soil, and 
hailed each other as brothers. But the cockney !— when I con- 
template him as springing too from the same source, I feel 
ashamed of the relationship, and am tempted to deny my ori- 
gin. In the character of Straddle is traced the complete out- 
line of a true cockney, of English growth, and a descendant of 
that individual facetious character mentioned by Shakspeare, 
"who in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay." 



THE STRANGER AT HOME; or, A TOUR IN BROAD- 

WAY. 

by jeremy cockloft, the younger. 

Preface. 

Your learned traveller begins his travels at the commence- 
ment of his journey; others begin theirs at the end; and a 
third class begin any how and any where, which I think is the 
true way. A late facetious writer begins what he calls "a Pic- 
ture of New York," with a particular description of Glen 5 s 
Palls, from whence with admirable dexterity he makes a 
digression to the celebrated Mill Rock, on Long-Island ! Now 
this is what I like ; and I intend, in my present tour, to digress 
as often and as long as I please. If, therefore, I choose to 
niaKe a hop, skip, and jump, to China, or New-Holland, or 
Terra Incognita, or Communipaw, I can produce a host of 



SALMAGUNDI. 15t 

examples to justify me, even in books that have been praised 
by the English reviewers, whose fiat being all that is necessary 
to give books a currency in this country, I am determined, as 
soon as I finish my edition of travels in seventy-five volumes, 
to transmit it forthwith to them for judgment. If these trans- 
atlantic censors praise it, I have no fear of its success in this 
country, where their approbation gives, like the tower stamp, 
a fictitious value, and makes tinsel and wampum pass current 
for classic gold. 

Chapter I. 

Battery— flag-staff kept by Louis Keaffee— Keaffee main- 
tains two spy-glasses by subscriptions — merchants p$y two 
shillings a-year to look through them at the signal poles on 
Staten-Island— a very pleasant prospect ; but not so pleasant 
as that from the hill of Howth— quere, ever been there?— 
Young seniors go down to the flag-staff to buy peanuts and 
beer, after the fatigue of their morning studies, and sometimes 
to play at ball, or some other innocent amusement— digression 
to the Olympic, and Isthmian games, with a description of the 
Isthmus of Corinth, and that of Darien: to conclude with a dis- 
sertation on the Indian custom of offering a whiff of tobacco 
smoke to their great spirit, Areskou. — Eeturn to the battery — 
delightful place to indulge in the luxury of sentiment— How 
various are the mutations of this world ! but a few days, a few 
hours — at least not above two hundred years ago, and this 
spot was inhabited by a race of aborigines, who dwelt in bark 
huts, lived upon oysters and Indian corn, danced buffalo 
dances, and were lords " of the fowl and the brute" — but the 
spirit of time and the spirit of brandy have swept them from 
their ancient inheritance ; and as the white wave of the ocean, 
by its ever toiling assiduity, gains on the brown land, so the 
white man, by slow and sure degrees, has gained on the brown 
savage, and dispossessed him of the land of his forefathers.— 
Conjectures on the first peopling of America— different opin- 
ions on that subject, to the amount of near one hundred — 
opinion of Augustine Torniel— that they are the descendants 
of Shem and Japheth, who came by the way of Japan to 
America— Juffridius Petri says they came from Friezeland, 
mem. cold journey.— Mons. Charron says they are descended 
from the Gauls— bitter enough.— A. Milius, from the Celtse— 
Kircher, from the Egyptians— L'Compte, from the Phenicians 



152 SALMAGUNDI. 

— Lescarbot, from the Canaanites, alias the Anthropophagi— 
Brerewood from the Tartars — Grotius, from the Norwegians — 
and Linkum Fidelius has written two folio volumes to prove 
that America was first of all peopled either by the Antipodeans 
or the Cornish miners, who, he maintains, might easily have 
made a subterraneous passage to this country, particularly the 
antipodeans, who, he asserts, can get along under ground as 
fast as moles — quere, which of these is in the right, or are they 
all wrong? — For my part, I don't see why America had not as 
good a right to be peopled at first, as any little contemptible 
country in Europe, or Asia, and I am determined to write a 
book at my first leisure, to prove that Noah was born here— 
and that so far is America from being indebted to any other 
country for inhabitants, that they were every one of them 
peopled by colonies from her !— mem. battery a very pleasant 
place to walk on a Sunday evening— not quite genteel though 
— everybody walks there, and a pleasure, however genuine, is 
spoiled by general x^articipation — the fashionable ladies of New- 
York turn up their noses if you ask them to walk on the bat- 
tery on Sunday— quere, have they scruples of conscience, or 
scruples of delicacy?— neither— they have only scruples of gen- 
tility, which are quite different things. 



Chapter II. 

Custom-house— origin of duties on merchandise — this place 
much frequented by merchants— and why?— different classes 
of merchants— importers — a kind of nobility — wholesale mer- 
chants—have the privilege of going to the city assembly!— 
Eetail traders cannot go to the assembly. — Some curious 
speculations on the vast distinction betwixt selling tape by the 
piece or by the yard. — Wholesale merchants look down upon 
the retailers, who in return look down upon t\ie green-grocers, 
who look down upon the market women, who don't care a 
straw about any of them.— Origin of the distinctions of rank 
—Dr. Johnson once horribly puzzled to settle the point of pre- 
cedence between a louse and a flea — good hint enough to 
humble, purse-proud arrogance. — Custom-house partly used as 
a lodging house for the pictures belonging to the academy of 
arts— couldn't afford the statues house-room, most of them 
in the cellar of the City-hall— poor place for the gods and 
godesses — after Olympus.— Peusive reflections on the ups and 



SALMAGUNDI. 153 

downs of life— Apollo, and the rest of the set, used to cut a 
great figure in days of yore.— Mem. every dog has his day- 
sorry for Venus, though, poor wench, to be cooped up in a 
cellar with not a single grace to wait on her! — Eulogy on 
the gentlemen of the academy of arts, for the great spirit 
with which they began the undertaking, and the perseverance 
with which they have pursued it. — It is a pity, however, they 
began at the wrong end — maxim— If you want a bird and a 
ca^e always buy the cage first — hem! a word to the wise? 



Chapter III. 

Bowling-Green — fine place for pasturing cows— a perqui- 
site of the late corporation — formerly ornamented with a 
statue of George the 3d— people pulled it down in the war to 
make bullets — great pity, as it might have been given to the 
academy— it would have become a cellar as well as any other. 
—Broadway — great difference in the gentility of streets — a man 
who resides in Pearl-street or Chatham-row, derives no kind of 
dignity from his domicil ; but place him in a certain part of 
Broadway, any where between the battery and Wall-street, and 
he straightway becomes entitled to figure in the beau monde, 
and strut as a person of prodigious consequence! — Quere, 
whether there is a degree of purity in the air of that quarter 
which changes the gross particles of vulgarity into gems of re- 
finement and polish? — A question to be asked, but not to be 
answered — Wall-street — City-hall, famous place for catch- 
poles, deputy-sheriffs, and young lawyers ; which last attend 
the courts, not because they have business there but because 
they have no business any where else. My blood always cur- 
dles when I see a catch-pole, they being a species of vermin, 
who feed and fatten on the common wretchedness of mankind, 
who trade in misery, and in becoming the executioners of the 
law, by their oppression and villainy, almost counterbalance 
all the benefits which are derived from its salutary regulations 
— Story of Quevedo about a catch-pole possessed by a devil, 
who, on being interrogated, declared that he did not come 
there voluntarily, but by compulsion ; and- that a decent devil 
would never, of his own free will enter into the body of a 
catch-pole; instead, therefore, of doing hirn the injustice to 
say that here was a catch-pole be-deviled, they should say, it 
was a devil be-catch-poied ; that being in reality the truths 



154 SALMA G VNDL 

Wonder what has become of the old crier of the court, who 
used to make more noise in preserving silence than the audi- 
ence did in breaking it — if a man happened to drop his cane, 
the old hero would sing out " silence !" in a voice that emulated 
the " wide-mouthed thunder" — On inquiring, found he had re- 
tired from business to enjoy otium cum dignitate, as many a 
great man had done before — Strange that wise men, as they 
are thought, should toil through a whole existence merely to 
enjoy a few moments of leisure at last ! — why don't they begin 
to be easy at first, and not purchase a moment's pleasure with 
an age of pain?— mem. posed some of the jockeys— eh! 

Chapter IV. 

Barber's pole; three different orders of shavers in New 
York — those who shave pigs; N. B. — freshmen and sophomores, 
—those who cut beards, and those who shave notes of hand; the 
last are the most respectable, because, in the course of a year, 
they make more money, and that honestly, than the whole 
corps of other shavers can do in half a century; besides, it 
would puzzle a common barber to ruin any man, except by 
cutting his throat ; whereas your higher order of shavers, your 
true blood-suckers of the community, seated snugly behind the 
curtain, in watch for prey, live on the vitals of the unfortu- 
nate, and grow rich on the ruins of thousands. — Yet this last 
class of barbers are held in high respect in the world; they 
never offend against the decencies of life, go often to church, 
look down on honest poverty walking on foot, and call them- 
selves gentlemen; yea, men of honour! — Lottery offices— 
another set of capital shavers! — licensed gambling houses! — 
good things enough though, as they enable a few honest, in- 
dustrious gentlemen to humbug the people— according to law; 
—besides, if the people will be such fools, whose fault is it but 
their own if they get bitt — Messrs. Paff — beg pardon for putting 
them in bad company, because they are a couple of fine fellows 
—mem. to recommend Michael's antique snuff box to all ama- 
teurs in the art. — Eagle singing Yankee-doodle — N. B. — Buff on, 
Penant, and the rest of the naturalists, all naturals not to 
know the eagle was a singing bird; Linkum Fidelius knew 
better, and gives a long description of a bald eagle that sere- 
naded him once in Canada ;— digression ; particular account of 
the Canadian Indians ;— story about Areskou learning to make 
Ashing nets of a spider— don't believe it though, because, 



SALMAGUNDI. 155 

according to Linkum, and many other learned authorities, 
Areskou is the same as Mars, being derived from his Greek 
names of Ares; and if so, he knew well enough what a net was 
without consulting a spider ;— story of Arachne being changed 
into a spider as a reward for having hanged herself; — deri- 
vation of the word spinster from spider;— Colophon, now Al- 
tobosco, the birthplace of Arachne, remarkable for a famous 
breed of spiders to this day ;— mem. — nothing like a little schol- 
arship—make the ignoramus, viz., the majority of my readers, 
stare like wild pigeons; — return to New- York a short cut — 
meet a dashing belle, in a little thick white veil — tried to get a 
peep at her face— saw she squinted a little — thought so at first ; 
— never saw a face covered with a veil that was worth looking 
at ; — saw some ladies holding a conversation across the street 
about going to church next Sunday— talked so loud they 
frightened a cartman's horse, who ran away, and overset a 
basket of gingerbread with a little boy under it;— mem.— I 
don't much see the use of speaking-trumpets now-a-days. 

Chapter V. 

Bought a pair of gloves ; dry -good stores the genuine schools 
of politeness — true Parisian manners there -got a pair of 
gloves and a pistareen's worth of bows for a dollar— dog cheap ! 
— Courtlandt-street corner — famous place to see the belles go by 
—quere, ever been shopping with a lady? — some account of it— - 
ladies go into all the shops in the city to buy a pair of gloves— 
good way of spending time, if they have nothing else to do. — 
Oswego-market — looks very much like a triumphal arch— some 
account of the manner of erecting them in ancient times ^di- 
gression to the arch-duke Charles, and some account of the 
ancient Germans. — N. B. — quote Tacitus on this subject. — Par- 
ticular description of market-baskets, butcher's blocks, and 
wheelbarrows;— mem. queer things run upon one wheel! — Saw 
a cart-man driving full-tilt through Broadway — ran over a 
child— good enough for it — what business had it to be in the 
way?— Hint concerning the laws against pigs, goats, dogs, and 
cartmen— grand apostrophe to the sublime science of jurispru- 
dence; — comparison between legislators and tinkers; quere, 
whether it requires greater ability to mend a law than to mend 
a kettle? — inquiry into the utility of making laws that are 
broken a hundred times a day with impunity ;— my lord Coke's 
opinion on the subject:— my lord a very great man— so was 



156 SALMAGUNDI. 

lord Bacon: good story about a criminal named Hog claiming 
relationship with him.— Hogg's porter-house ;— great haunt of 
Will Wizard ; Will put down there one night by a sea-captain, 
in an argument concerning the era of the Chinese empire 
Whangpo; — Hogg's capital place for hearing the same stories, 
the same jokes, and the same songs every night in the year- 
mem, except Sunday nights ; fine school for young politicians 
too— some of the longest and thickest heads in the city come 
there to settle the nation. — Scheme of Ichabod Fungus to 
restore the balance of Europe ;— digression ; — some account of 
the balance of Europe ; comparison between it and a pair of 
scales, with the Emperor Alexander in one and the Emperor 
Napoleon in the other : fine fellows— both of a weight, can't tell 
which will kick the beam: — mem. don't care much either — 
nothing to me : — Ichabod very unhappy about it— thinks Na- 
poleon has an eye on this country — capital place to pasture his 
horses, and provide for the rest of his family :— Dey-street — 
ancient Dutch name of it, signifying murderers' valley, for- 
merly the site of a great peach orchard; my grandmother's 
history of the famous Peach tear -arose from an Indian steal- 
ing peaches out of this orchard ; good cause as need be for a 
war ; just as good as the balance of power. Anecdote of a war 
between two Italian states about a bucket; introduce some 
capital new truisms about the folly of mankind, the ambition 
of kings, potentates, and princes; particularly Alexander, 
Caesar, Charles the XHth, Napoleon, little King Pepin, and the 
great Charlemagne. — Conclude with an exhortation to the 
present race of sovereigns to keep the king's peace and abstain 
from all those deadly quarrels which produce battle, murder, 
and sudden death : mem. ran my nose against a lamp-post— 
conclude in great dudgeon. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR 

Our cousin Pindar, after having been confined for some 
time past with a fit of the gout, which is a kind of keepsake in 
our family, has again set his mill going, as my readers will 
perceive. On reading his piece I could not help smiling at the 
high compliments which, contrary to his usual style, he has 
lavished on the dear sex. The old gentleman, unfortunately 



SALMA G UNDL 157 

observing niy merriment, stumped out of the room with great 
vociferation of crutch, and has not exchanged three words 
with me since. I expect every hour to hear that he has 
packed up his movables, and, as usual in all cases of disgust, 
retreated to his old country house. 

Pindar, like most of the old Cockloft heroes, is wonderfully 
susceptible to the genial influence of warm weather. In 
winter he is one of the most crusty old bachelors under 
heaven, and is wickedly addicted to sarcastic reflections of 
every kind ; particularly on the little enchanting foibles and 
whim-wharns of women. But when the spring comes on, and 
the mild influence of the sun releases nature from her icy 
fetters, the ice of his bosom dissolves into a gentle current 
which reflects the bewitching qualities of the fair ; as in some 
mild clear evening, when nature reposes in silence, the stream 
bears in its pure bosom all the starry magnificence of heaven. 
It is under the control of this influence he has written his 
piece ; and I beg the ladies, in the plenitude of their harmless 
conceit, not to flatter themselves that because the good Pindar 
has suffered them to escape his censures he had nothing more 
to censure. It is but sunshine and zephyrs which have 
wrought this wonderful change ; and I am much mistaken if 
the first north-easter don't convert all his good nature into 
most exquisite spleen. 



FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. 

How often I cast my reflections behind, 
And call up the days of past youth to my mind. 
When folly assails in habiliments new, 
When fashion obtrudes some fresh whim-wham to view; 
When the f oplings of fashion bedazzle my sight, 
Bewilder my f eelings— my senses benight ? 
I retreat in disgust from the world oi to-day. 
To commune with the world that has mouldered away; 
To converse with the shades of those friends of my love, 
Long gather'd in peace to the angels above. 

In my rambles through life should I meet with annoy, 
From the bold beardless stripling— the turbid pert boy, 
One rear'd in the mode lately reckon'd genteel, 
Which neglecting the head, aims to perfect the heel; 



158 8 ALMA G UNDL 

Which completes the sweet f opling while yet in his teens., 
And fits him for fashion's light changeable scenes ; 
Proclaims him a man to the near and the far, 
Can he dance a cotillion or smoke a segar; 
And though brainless and vapid as vapid can be, 
To routs and to parties pronounces him free : — 
Oh, I think on the beaux that existed of yore, 
On those rules of the ton that exist now no more ! 

I recall with delight how each yonker at first 
In the cradle of science and virtue was nursed: 
—How the graces of person and graces of mind, 
The polish of learning and fashion combined, 
Till softened in manners and strengthened in head, 
By the classical lore of the living and dead, 
Matured in his person till manly in size, 
He then was presented a beau to our eyes ! 

My nieces of late have made frequent complaint 
That they suffer vexation and painful constraint 
By having their circles too often distrest 
By some three or four goslings just iledged from the nest, 
Who, propp'd by the credit their fathers sustain, 
Alike tender in years and in person and brain, 
But plenteously stock'd with that substitute, brass, 
For true wits and critics would anxiously pass. 
They complain of that empty sarcastical slang, 
So common to all the coxcombical gang, 
Who the fair with their shallow experience vex, 
By thrumming for ever their weakness of sex ; 
And who boast of themselves, when they talk with proud air 
Of Man's mental ascendancy over the fair. 

'Twas thus the young owlet produced in the nest, 
Where the eagle of Jove her young eaglets had prest, 
Pretended to boast of his royal descent, 
And vaunted that force which to eagles is lent. 
Though fated to shun with his dim visual ray, 
The cheering delights and the brilliance of day ; 
To forsake the fair regions of aether and light, 
For dull moping caverns of darkness and night : 
Still talk'd of that eagle-like strength of the eye, 
Which approaches unwinking the pride of the sky 9 
Of that wing which unwearied can hover and play 
In the noon-tide effulgence and torrent of day, 



SALMAGUNDI. ~ 159 

Dear girls, the sad evils of which ye complain, 
Your sex must endure from the feeble and vain, 
'Tis the commonplace jest of the nursery scape-goat, 
'Tis the commonplace ballad that croaks from his throat | 
He knows not that nature— that polish decrees, 
That women should always endeavour to please. 
That the law of their system has early imprest 
The importance of fitting themselves to each guest ; 
And, of course, that full oft when ye trifle and play, 
'Tis to gratify triflers who strut in your way. 
The child might as well of its mother complain, 
As wanting true wisdom and soundness of brain: 
Because that, at times, while it hangs on her breast, 
She with " lulla-by-baby" beguiles it to rest. 
'Tis its weakness of mind that induces the strain, 
For wisdom fco infants is prattled in vain. 

'Tis true at odd times, when in frolicsome fit, 
In the midst of his gambols, the mischievous wit 
May start some light foible that clings to the fair 
Like cobwebs that fasten to objects most rare, — 
In the play of his fancy will sportively say 
Some delicate censure that pops in his way, 
He may smile at your fashions, and frankly express 
His dislike of a dance, or a flaming red dress ; 
Yet he blames notjyour want of man's physical force. 
Nor complains though ye cannot in Latin discourse. 
He delights in the language of nature ye speak, 
Though not so refined as true classical Greek. 
He remembers that Providence never design'd 
Our females like suns to bewilder and blind ; 
But like the mild orb of pale ev'ning serene, 
Whose radiance illumines, yet softens the scene, 
To light us with cheering and welcoming ray, 
Along the rude path when the sun is away. 

I own in my scribblings I lately have nam'd 
Some faults of our fair which I gently have blam'd, 
But be it for ever by all understood 
My censures were only pronounc'd for their good. 
I delight in the sex, 'tis the pride of my mind 
To consider them gentle, endearing, refin'd ; 
As our solace below in the journey of life, 
To smooth its rough passes;— to soften its strife: 



160 SALMAGUNDI 

As objects intended our joys to supply, 
And to iead us in love to the temples on high. 
How oft have I felt, when two lucid blue eyes^ 
As calm and as bright as the gems of the skies 9 
Have beamed their soft radiance into my soul, 
Impress'd with an awe like an angel's control ! 

Yes, fair ones, by this is for ever defin'd 
T xhe fop from the man of refinement and mind; 
The latter believes ye in bounty were given 
As a bond upon earth of our union with heaven: 
And if ye are weak, and are frail, in his view, 
"lis to call forth fresh warmth and his fondness renew 
'Tis his joy to support these defects of your frame, 
And his love at your weakness redoubles its flame: 
He rejoices the gem is so rich and so fair, 
And is proud that it claims his protection and care 



SALMA G TJNDL \ 6 1 



NO. XIII -FRIDAY, AUGUST 14, 1807. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

I was not a little perplexed, a short time since, by the eccen- 
tric conduct of my knowing coadjutor, Will Wizard. For 
two or three days, he was completely in a quandary. He 
would come into old Cockloft's parlour ten times a day, swing- 
ing his ponderous legs along with his usual vast strides, clap 
his hands into his sides, contemplate the little shepherdesses 
on the mantel-piece for a few minutes, whistling all the while, 
and then sally out fall sweep, without uttering a word. To he 
sure, a pish or a pshaw occasionally escaped him ; and he was 
observed once to pull out his enormous tobacco-box, drum for 
a moment upon its lid with his knuckles, and then return it 
into his pocket without taking a quid:— 'twas evident Will 
was full of some mighty idea : — not that his restlessness was 
any way uncommon ; for I have often seen Will throw himself 
almost into a fever of heat and fatigue— doing nothing. But 
his inflexible taciturnity set the whole family, as usual a won- 
dering: as Will seldom enters the house without giving one of 
his " one thousand and one" stories. For my part, I began to 
think that the late fracas at Canton had alarmed Will for the 
safety of his friends Kinglun, Chinqua, and Consequa; or, 
that something had gone wrong in the alterations of the thea- 
tre — or that some new outrage at Norfolk had put him in a 
orry; in short, I did not know what to think; for Will is 
such an universal busy-body, and meddles so much in every 
thing going forward, that you might as well attempt to con- 
jecture what is going on in the north star, as in his precious 
pericranium. Even Mrs. Cockloft, who, like a worthy woman 
as she is, seldom troubles herself about any thing in this world 
— saving the affairs of her household, and the correct deport- 
ment of her female friends — was struck with the mystery of 



162 SALMAGUNDI. 

Will's behaviour. {She happened, when he came in and went 
out the tenth time, to be busy darning the bottom of one of 
the old red damask chairs ; and notwithstanding this is to her 
an affair of vast importance, yet she could not help turning 
round and exclaiming, u I wonder what can be the matter with 
Mr. Wizard ?" " Nothing," replied old Christopher, "only we 
shall have an eruption soon." The old lady did not under- 
stand a word of this, neither did she care ; she had expressed 
her wonder ; and that, with her, is always sufficient. 

I am so well acquainted with Will's peculiarities that I can 
tell, even by his whistle, when he is about an essay for our 
paper as certainly as a weather wiseacre knows that it is going 
to rain when he sees a pig run squeaking about with his nose 
in the wind. I, therefore, laid my account with receiving a 
communication from him before long; and sure enough, the 
evening before last I distinguished his free-mason knock at 
my door. I have seen many wise men in my time, philoso- 
phers, mathematicians, astronomers, politicians, editors and 
almanac makers ; but never did I see a man look half so wise 
as did my friend Wizard on entering the room. Had Lavater 
beheld him at that moment he would have set him down, to a 
certainty, as a fellow who had just discovered the longitude or 
the philosopher's stone. 

Without saying a word, he handed me a roll of paper ; after 
which he lighted his segar, sat down, crossed his legs, folded 
his arms, and elevating his nose to an angle of about forty-five 
degrees, began to smoke like a steam engine ; — Will delights in 
the picturesque. On opening his budget, and perceiving the 
motto, it struck me that Will had brought me one of his con- 
founded Chinese manuscripts, and I was forthwith going to 
dismiss it with indignation ; but accidentally seeing the name 
of our oracle, the sage Linkum, of whose inestimable folios we 
pride ourselves upon being the sole possessors, I began to think 
the better of it, and looked round to Will to express my appro 
bation. I shall never forget the figure he cut at that moment 
He had watched my countenance, on evening his manuscript, 
with the argus eyes of an author: and perceiving some tokens 
of disapprobation, began, according to custom, to puff away 
at his segar with such vigour that in a few minutes he had en- 
tirely involved himself in smoke : except his nose and one foot, 
which were just visible, the latter wagging with great velocity. 
I believe I have hinted before— at least I ought to have done 
so — that Will's nose is a very goodly nose ; to which it may b© 



+ SALMA G UNDL 163 

&s *reil to add, that in his voyages under the tropics, it has ac- 
quired a copper complexion, which renders it very brilliant 
and luminous. You may imagine what a sumptuous appear- 
ance it made, projecting boldly, like the celebrated promonto- 
Hum nasidium at Samos with a light-house upon it, and sur- 
rounded on all sides with smoke and vapour. Had my gravity 
been like the Chinese philosopher's " within one degree of ab= 
solute frigidity," here would have been a trial for it,— I could 
not stand it, but burst into such a laugh as I do not indulge in 
above once in a hundred years ; — this was too much for Will ; 
he emerged from his cloud, threw his segar into the fire-place, 
and strode out of the room, pulling up his breeches, muttering 
something which, I verily believe, was nothing more than a 
horrible long Chinese malediction. 

He, however, left his manuscript behind him, which I now 
give to the world. Whether he is serious on the occasion, or 
only bantering, no one, I believe, can tell: for, whether in 
speaking or writing, there is such an invincible gravity in his 
demeanour and style, that even I, who have studied him as 
closely as an antiquarian studies aji old manuscript or inscrip- 
tion, am frequently at a loss to know what the rogue would be 
at. I have seen him indulge in his favourite amusement of 
quizzing for hours together, without any one having the least 
suspicion of the matter, until he would suddenly twist his phiz 
into an expression that baffles all description, thrust his tongue 
in his cheek and blow up in a laugh almost as loud as the shout 
of the Romans on a certain occasion ; which honest Plutarcli 
avers frightened several crows to such a degree that they fell 
down stone dead into the Campus Martius. Jeremy Cocklott 
the younger, who like a true modern philosopher delights in 
experiments that are of no kind of use, took the trouble to 
measure one of Will's risible explosions, and declared to me 
that, according to accurate measurement, it contained thirty 
feet square of solid laughter :— what will the professors say to 
this? 



164 SALMAGUNDI 



FLANS FOE DEFENDING OUR HARBOUR 

BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ, 

Long-f ong teko buzz tor-pe-do 7 

Fudge —Confucius.- 

We'll blow the villains all sky high; 

But do it with econo my. — Link. Fid. 

Surely never was a town more subject to mid-summer fan- 
cies and dog-day whim-whams, than this most excellent of 
cities ;— our notions, like our diseases, seem all epidemic; and 
no sooner does a new disorder or a new freak seize one individ- 
ual but it is sure to run through all the community. This is 
particularly the case when the summer is at the hottest, and 
every body's head is in a vertigo and his brain in a ferment; 
'tis absolutely necessary then the poor souls should have some 
bubble to amuse themselves with, or they would certainly run 
mad. Last year the poplar worm made its appearance most 
fortunately for our citizens ; and every body was so much in 
horror of being poisoned, and devoured ; and so busied in mak- 
ing humane experiments on cats and dogs, that we got through 
the summer quite comfortably ; — the cats had the worst of it ; 
— every mouser of them was shaved, and there was not a 
whisker to be seen in the whole sisterhood. This summer 
every body has had full employment in planning fortifications 
for our harbour. Not a cobbler or tailor in the city but has 
left his awl and his thimble, become an engineer outright, and 
aspired most magnanimously to the building of forts and de- 
struction of navies!— heavens! as my friend Mustapha would 
say, on what a great scale is every thing in this country ! 

Among the various plans that have been offered, the most 
conspicuous is one devised and exhibited, as I am informed, by 
that notable confederacy, the North River Society. 

Anxious to redeem uheir reputation from the foul suspicions 
that have for a long time overclouded it, these aquatic incendi- 
aries have come forward, at the present alarming juncture, 
and announced a most potent discovery which is to guarantee 
our port from the visits of any foreign marauders. The society 
have, it seems, invented a cunning machine, shrewdly yclep'd 
a Torpedo; by which the stoutest line of battle ship, even a 



SALMAGUNDI. 165 

Santissima Trinidada, may be caught napping and decomposed 
in a twinkling; a kind of sub-marine powder-magazine to 
swim under water, like an aquatic mole, or water rat, and de- 
stroy the enemy in the moments of unsuspicious security. 

This straw tickled the noses of all our dignitaries wonder- 
fully ; for to do our government justice, it has no objection to 
injuring and exterminating its enemies in any manner— pro- 
vided the thing can be done economically. 

It was determined the experiment should be tried, and an 
old brig was purchased, for not more than twice its value, and 
delivered over into the hands of its tormentors, the North 
River Society, to be tortured, and battered, and annihilated, 
secundum artem. A day was appointed for the occasion, when 
all the good citizens of the wonder-loving city of Gotham were 
invited to the blowing up ; like the fat inn-keeper in Rabelais, 
who requested all his customers to come on a certain day and 
see him burst. 

As I have almost as great a veneration as the good Mr. Wal- 
ter Shandy for all kinds of experiments that are ingeniously 
ridiculous, I made very particular mention of the one in ques- 
tion, at the table of my friend Christopher Cockloft ; but it put 
the honest old gentleman in a violent passion. He condemned it 
in toto, as an attempt to introduce a dastardly and exterminating 
mode of warfare. ' • Already have we proceeded far enough, " 
said he, ' ' in the science of destruction ; war is already invested 
with sufficient horrors and calamities, let us not increase the 
catalogue ; let us not by these deadly artifices provoke a sys- 
tem of insidious and indiscriminate hostility, that shall termin- 
ate in laying our cities desolate, and exposing our women, our 
children, and our infirm to the sword of pitiless recrimination. " 
Honest old cavalier !— it was evident he did not reason as a true 
politician, — but he felt as a Christian and philanthropist; and 
that was, perhaps, just as well. 

It may be readily supposed, that our citizens did not refuse 
the invitation of the society to the blow-up ; it was the first 
naval action ever exhibited in our port, and the good people all 
crowded to see the British navy blown up in effigy. The young 
ladies were delighted with the novelty of the show, and de- 
clared that if war could be conducted in this manner, it would 
become a fashionable amusement; and the destruction of a 
fleet be as pleasant as a ball or a tea-party. The old folk were 
equally pleased with the spectacle, — because it cost them noth- 
ing. Dear souls, how hard was it they should be disappointed!} 



166 SALMAGUNDI. 

the brig most obstinately refused to be decomposed ; the din- 
ners grew cold, and the puddings were over-boiled, throughout 
the renowned city of Gotham: and its sapient inhabitants, like 
the honest Strasburghers, from whom most of them are doubt- 
less descended, who went out to see the courteous stranger and 
his nose, all returned home after having threatened to pull 
down the flag-staff by way of taking satisfaction for their dis- 
appointment. By the way, their is not an animal in the world 
more discriminating in its vengeance than a free-born mob. 

In the evening I repaired to friend Hogg's to smoke a socia- 
ble segar, but had scarcely entered the room when I was taken 
prisoner by my friend, Mr. Ichabod Fungus ; who, I soon saw 
was at his usual trade of prying into mill-stones. The old gen- 
tleman informed me, that the brig had actually blown up, 
after a world of manoeuvring, and had nearly blown up the 
society with it ; he seemed to entertain strong doubts as to the 
objects of the society in the invention of these infernal ma- 
chines ;— hinted a suspicion of their wishing to set the river on 
fire, and that he should not be surprised on waking one of 
these mornings to find the Hudson in a blaze. "Not that I 
disapprove of the plan," said he, " provided it has the end in 
view which they profess ; no, no, an excellent plan of defence ; 
— no need of batteries, forts, frigates, and gun-boats ; observe, 
sir, all that's necessary is that the ships must come to anchor 
in a convenient place ; — watch must be asleep, or so compla- 
cent as not to disturb any boats paddling about them— fair 
wind and tide — no moonlight — machines well-directed— musn't 
flash in the plan— bang's the word, and the vessel's blown up 
in a moment !" " Good," said I, ''you remind me of a lubberly 
Chinese who was flogged by an honest captain of my acquaint- 
ance, and who, on being advised to retaliate, exclaimed — 'Hi 
yah ! s'pose two men hold fast him captain, den very mush me 
bamboo he !' " 

The old gentleman grew a little crusty, and insisted that I 
did not understand him ;— all that was requisite to render the 
effect certain was, that the enemy should enter into the pro- 
ject; or, in other words, be agreeable to the measure; so that 
if the machine did not come to the ship, the ship should go to 
the machine ; by which means he thought the success of the 
machine would be inevitable— provided it struck fire. "But 
do not you think," said I, doubtingly, "that it would be rather 
difficult to persuade the enemy into such an agreement? — Somo 
people have an invincible antipathy to being blown up." " Wot 



SALMAQUNDL 167 

at all, net at all," replied he, triumphantly; "got an excellent 
notion for that;— do with them as we have done with the brig; 
buy all the vessels we mean to destroy, and blow "em up as 
best suits our convenience. I have thought deeply on that 
subject and have calculated to a certainty, that if our funds 
hold out we may in this way destroy the whole British navy — 
by contract." 

By this time all the quidnuncs of the room had gathered 
around us, each pregnant with some mighty scheme for the sal- 
vation of his country. — One pathetically lamented that we had 
no such men among us as the famous Toujoursdort and Grossi- 
tout; who, when the celebrated captain Tranchemont made 
war against the city of Kalaeahabalaba, utterly discomfited 
the great king Bigstaff, and blew up his whole army by sneez- 
ing. — Another imparted a sage idea, which seems to have oc- 
cupied more heads than one ; that is, that the best way of 
fortifying the harbour was to ruin it at once ; choke the chan- 
nel with rocks and blocks ; strew it with chevaux-de-f rises and 
torpedoes ; and make it like a nursery-garden, full of men-traps 
and spring-guns. No vessel would then have the temerity to 
enter our harbour ; we should not even dare to navigate it our- 
selves. Or if no cheaper way could be devised, let Governor's 
Island be raised by levers and pulleys— floated with empty 
casks, &c, towed down to the Narrows, and dropped plump 
in the very mouth of the harbour!— "But," said I, "would 
not the prosecution of these whim- whams be rather expensive 
and dilatory?" " Pshaw !" cried the other— "what's a mil- 
lion of money to an experiment ; the true spirit of our economy 
requires that we should spare no expense in discovering the 
cheapest mode of defending ourselves; and then if all these 
modes should fail, why, you know the worst we have to do is 
to return to the old-fashioned hum-drum mode of forts and 
batteries." "By which time," cried I, "the arrival of the 
enemy may have rendered their erection superfluous." 

A shrewd old gentleman, who stood listening by, with a mis- 
chievously equivocal look, observed that the most effectual 
mode of repulsing a fleet from our ports would be to admin; 
ister them a proclamation from time to time, till it operated. 

Unwilling to leave the company without demonstrating my 
patriotism and ingenuity, I communicated a plan of defence ; 
which, in truth, was suggested long since by that infallible 
oracle Mustapha, who had as clear a head for cobweb-weaving 
as ever dignified the shoulders of a projector. He thought tl:o 



1 68 8 ALMA G UNDL 

most effectual mode would be to assemble all the slang-whang- 
ers, great and small, from all parts of the state, and marshal 
them at the battery; where they should be exposed, point 
blank, to the enemy, and form a tremendous body of scolding 
infantry; similar to the poissards or doughty champions of 
Billingsgate. They should be exhorted to fire away, without 
pity or remorse, in sheets, half -sheets, columns, hand-bills, or 
squibs ; great canon, little canon, pica, german-text, stereotype, 
and to run their enemies through and through with sharp- 
pointed italics. They should have orders to show no quarter — 
to blaze away in their loadest epithets ■ ' miscreants!" u mur- 
derers!" " barbarians!" " pirates!" u robbers!" " Blackguards !" 
and to do away all fear of consequences, they should be guar- 
anteed from all dangers of pillory, kicking, cuffing, nose-pull- 
ing, whipping-post, or prosecution for libels. If, continued 
Mustapha, you wish men to fight well and valiantly, they 
must be allowed those weapons they have been used to handle. 
Your countrymen are notoriously adroit in the management of 
the tongue and the pen, and conduct all their battles by 
speeches or newspapers. Adopt, therefore, the plan I have 
pointed out ; and rely upon it that let any fleet, however large, 
be but once assailed by this battery of slang- whangers, and if 
they have not entirely lost the sense of hearing, or a regard 
for their own characters and feelings, they will, at the very 
first fire, slip their cables and retreat with as much precipita- 
tion as if they had unwarily entered into the atmosphere of 
the Bohan upas. In this manner may your wars be conducted 
with proper economy ; and it will cost no more to drive off a 
fleet than to write up a party, or write down a bashaw with 
three tails. 

The sly old gentleman, I have before mentioned, was highly 
delighted with this plan; and proposed, as an improvement, 
that mortars should be placed on the battery, which, instead 
of throwing shells and such trifles, might be charged with 
newspapers, Tammany addresses, etc., by way of red-hot shot, 
which would undoubtedly be very potent in blowing up any 
powder-magazine they might chance to come in contact with. 
He concluded by informing the company, that in the course of 
a few evenings he would have the honour to present them with 
a scheme for loading certain vessels with newspapers, resolu- 
tions of " numerous and respectable meetings, 9 ' and other com- 
bustibles, which vessels were to be blown directly in the midst 
of the enemy by the bellows of the slang- whangers ; and he 



SALMA G UNDL \ 69 

was much mistaken if they would not be more fatal than fire- 
ships, bomb-ketches, gun-boats, or even torpedoes. 

These are but two or three specimens of the nature and effi- 
cacy of the innumerable plans with which this city abounds. 
Every body seems charged to the muzzle with gunpowder,— 
every eye flashes fireworks and torpedoes, and every corner is 
occupied by knots of inflammatory projectors; not one of 
whom but has some preposterous mode of destruction which 
he has proved to be infallible by a previous experiment in a 
tub of water ! 

Even Jeremy Cockloft has caught the infection, to the great 
annoyance of the inhabitants of Cockloft-hall, whither he re- 
tired to make his experiments undisturbed. At one time all 
the mirrors in the house were unhung, —their collected rays 
thrown into the hot-house, to try Archimedes' plan of burning 
glasses ; and the honest old gardener was almost knocked down 
by what he mistook for a stroke of the sun, but which turned 
out to be nothing more than a sudden attack of one of these 
tremendous jack-o'-lanterns. It became dangerous to walk 
through the court-yard for fear of an explosion ; and the whole 
family was thrown into absolute distress and consternation by 
a letter from the old housekeeper to Mrs. Cockloft ; informing 
her of his having blown up a favourite Chinese gander, which 
I had brought from Canton, as he was majestically sailing in 
the duck-pond. 

*'In the multitude of counsellors there is safety;"— if so, the 
defenceless city of Gotham has nothing to apprehend ;— but 
much do I fear that so many excellent and infallible projects 
will be presented, that we shall be at a loss which to adopt ; and 
the peaceable inhabitants fare like a famous projector of my 
acquaintance, whose house was unfortunately plundered while 
he was contriving a patent lock to secure his door. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

A RETEOSPECT; or, "WHAT YOU WILL." 

Lolling in my elbow-chair this fine summer noon, I feel 
myself insensibly yielding to that genial feeling of indolence 
the season is so well fitted to inspire. Every one who is blessed 



170 SALMAGUNDI 

with a little of the delicious languor of disposition that delights 
in repose, must often have sported among the fairy scenes, the 
golden visions, the voluptuous reveries, that swim before the 
imagination at such moments, and which so much resemble 
those blissful sensations a Mussulman enjoys after his favourite 
indulgence of opium, which Will Wizard declares can be com- 
pared to nothing but "swimming in an ocean of peacocks' 
feathers. In such a mood, every body must be insensible it 
would be idle and unprofitable for a man to send Ms wits a-gad- 
ding on a voyage of discovery into futurity ; or even to trouble 
himself with a laborious investigation of what is actually pass- 
ing under his eye. We are at such times more disposed to re- 
sort to the pleasures of memory than to those of the imagina- 
tion; and, like the wayfaring traveller, reclining for a moment 
on his staff, had rather contemplate the ground we have 
travelled, than the region which is yet before us. 

I could here amuse myself and stultify my readers with a 
most elaborate and ingenious parallel between authors and 
travellers ; but in this balmy season which makes men stupid 
and dogs mad, and when doubtless many of our most strenuous 
admirers have great difficulty in keeping awake through the 
day, it would be cruel to saddle them with the formidable diffi- 
culty of putting two ideas together and drawing a conclusion ; 
or in the learned phrase, forging syllogisms in Baroco: — a 
terrible undertaking for the dog days ! to say the truth, my 
observations were only intended to prove that this, of all 
others, is the most auspicious moment, and my present, the 
most favourable mood for indulging in a restrospect. Whether, 
like certain great personages of the day, in attempting to 
prove one thing, I have exposed another ; or whether, like cer- 
tain other great personages, in attempting to prove a great 
deal, I have proved nothing at all, I leave to my readers to 
decide; provided they have the power and inclination so to do; 
but a retrospect will I take notwithstanding. 

I am perfectly aware that in doing this I shall lay myself 
open to the charge of imitation, than which a man might be 
better accused of downright house-breaking ; for it has been a 
standing rule with many of my illustrious predecessors, occa- 
sionally, and particularly at the conclusion of a volume, to look 
over their shoulder and chuckle at the miracles they had 
achieved. But as I before professed, I am determined to hold 
myself entirely independent of all manner of opinions and 
criticisms as the only method of getting on in this world in any 



SALMAGUNDI. 171 

thing like a straight line. True it is, I may sometimes seem to 
angle a little for the good opinion of mankind by giving them 
some excellent reasons for doing unreasonable things ; but this 
is merely to show them, that although I may occasionally go 
wron^r, it is not for want of knowing how to go right ; and here 
I will lay down a maxim, which will for ever entitle me to the 
gratitude of my inexperienced readers, namely, that a man 
always gets more credit in the eyes of this naughty world for 
sinning wilfully, than for sinning through sheer ignorance. 

It will doubtless be insisted by many ingenious cavillers, 
who will be meddling with what does not at all concern them, 
that this retrospect should have been taken at the commence- 
ment of our second volume; it is usual, I know: moreover, it is 
natural. So soon as a writer has once accomplished a volume, 
he forthwith becomes wonderfully increased in altitude ! he steps 
upon his book as upon a pedestal, and is elevated in proportion 
to its magnitude. A duodecimo makes him one inch taller; an 
octavo, three inches, a quarto, six : — but he who has made out 
to swell a folio, looks down upon his fellow-creatures from such 
a fearful height that, ten to one, the poor man's head is turned 
for ever afterwards. From such a lofty situation, therefore, it 
is natural an author should cast his eyes behind; and having 
reached the first landing place on the stairs of immortality, 
may reasonably be allowed to plead his privilege to look back 
over the height he has ascended. I have deviated a little from 
this venerable custom, merely that our retrospect might fall 
in the dog days — of all days in the year most congenial to the 
indulgence of a little self-sufficiency ; inasmuch as people have 
then little to do but to retire within the sphere of self, and make 
the most of what they find there. 

Let it not be supposed, however, that we think ourselves a 
whit the wiser or better since we have finished our volume 
than we were before ; on the contrary, we seriously assure our 
readers that we were fully possessed of all the wisdom and 
morality it contains at the moment we commenced writing. 
It is the world which has grown wiser, — not us ; we have thrown 
our mite into the common stock of knowledge, we have shared 
our morsel with the ignorant multitude ; and so far from ele- 
vating ourselves above the world, our sole endeavor has been 
to raise the world to our own level, and make it as wise as we, 
its disinterested benefactors. 

To a moral writer like myself, who, next to his own comfort 
and entertainment, has the good of his fellow-citizens at heart, 



172 SALMAGUNDI. 

a retrospect is but a sorry amusement. Like the industrious 
husbandman, he often contemplates in silent disappointment 
his labours wasted on a barren soil, or the seeds he has carefully 
sown, choked by a redundancy of worthless weeds. I expected 
long ere this to have seen a complete reformation in manner 
and morals, achieved by our united efforts. My fancy echoed to 
the applauding voices of a retrieved generation ; I anticipated, 
with proud satisfaction, the period, not far distant, when our 
work would be introduced into the academies with which every 
lane and alley of our cities abounds ; when our precepts would 
be gently inducted into every unlucky urchin by force of 
birch, and my iron-bound physiogomy, as taken by Will Wiz- 
ard, be as notorious as that of Noah Webster, junr. Esq., or 
his no less renowned predecessor, the illustrious Dilworth, of 
spelling-book immortality. But, well-a-day ! to let my readers 
inio a profound secret — the expectations of man are like the 
varied hues that tinge the distant prospect ; never to be realized, 
never to be enjoyed but in perspective. Luckless Launcelot, 
that the humblest of the many air castles thou hast erected 
should prove a "baseless fabric !" Much does it grieve me to 
confess, that after all our lectures, and excellent admonitions, 
the people of New- York are nearly as much given to back- 
sliding and ill-nature as ever ; they are just as much abandoned 
to dancing, and tea-drinking; and as to scandal, Will Wizard 
informs me that, by a rough computation, since the last cargo 
of gunpowder-tea from Canton, no less than eighteen characters 
have been blown up, besides a number of others that have been 
wofully shattered. 

The ladies still labour under the same scarcity of muslins, 
and delight in flesh-coloured silk stockings ; it is evident, how- 
ever, that our advice has had very considerable effect on them, 
as they endeavour to act as opposite to it as possible; this 
being what Evergreen calls female independence. As to the 
Straddles, they abound as much as ever in Broadway, partic- 
ularly on Sundays; and Wizzard roundly asserts that he 
supped in company with a knot of them a few evenings since, 
when they liquidated a whole Birmingham consignment, in a 
batch of imperial champaign. I have, furthermore, in the 
course of a month past, detected no less than three Giblet 
families making their first onset towards style and gentility in 
the very manner Ave have heretofore reprobated. Nor have 
our utmost efforts been able to check the progress of that 
alarming epidemic, the rage for punning, which, though 



SALMAGUNDI. 173 

doubtless originally intended merely to ornament and enliven 
conversation by little sports of fancy, threatens to overrun and 
poison the whole, like the baneful ivy which destroys the use- 
ful plant it first embellished. Now I look upon an habitual 
punster as a depredator upon conversation; and I have 
remarked sometimes one of these offenders, sitting silent on 
the watch for an hour together until some luckless wight, un- 
fortunately for the ease and quiet of the company, dropped a 

phrase susceptible of a double meaning; — when pop, our 

punster would dart out like a veteran mouser from her covert, 
seize the unlucky word, and after worrying and mumbling at 
it until it was capable of no further marring, relapse again 
into silent watchfulness, and He in wait for another opportu- 
nity. — Even this might be borne with, by the aid of a little 
philosophy ; but the worst of it is, they are not content to 
manufacture puns and laugh heartily at them themselves ; but 
they expect we should laugh with them ; — which I consider as 
an intolerable hardship, and a flagrant imposition on good-na- 
ture. Let those gentlemen fritter away conversation with im- 
punity, and deal out their wits in sixpenny bits if they please ; 
but I beg I may have the choice of refusing currency to their 
small change. I am seriously afraid, however, that our junto 
is not quite free from the infection ; nay, that it has even ap- 
proached so near as to menace the tranquillity of my elbow- 
chair : for, Will Wizzard, as we were in caucus the other night, 
absolutely electrified Pindar and myself with a most palpable 
and perplexing pun ; had it been a torpedo, it could not have 
more discomposed the fraternity. Sentence of banishment 
was unanimously decreed; but on his confessing that, like 
many celebrated wits, he was merely retailing other men's 
wares on commission, he was for that once forgiven on condi- 
tion of refraining from such diabolical practices in future. 
Pindar is particularly outrageous against punsters : and quite 
astonished and put me to a nonplus a day or two since, by ask- 
ing abruptly ' ' whether I thought a punster could be a good 
Christain?" He followed up his question triumphantly by 
offering to prove, by sound logic and historical fact, that the 
Roman empire owed its decline and fall to a pun ; and that 
nothing tended so much to demoralize the French nation, as 
their abominable rage for jeux de mots. 

But what, above every thing else, has caused me much vex- 
ation of spirit, and displeased me most with this stiff-necked 
nation, is, that in spite of all the serious and profound censures 



1 74 8 A LMA UNDL 

of the sage Mustapha, in his various letters — they ivill talk !—* 
they will still wag their tongues, and chatter like very slang- 
whangers! this is a degree of obstinacy incomprehensible in 
the extreme ; and is another proof how alarming is the force of 
habit, and how difficult it is to reduce beings, accustomed to 
talk, to that state of silence which is the very acme of human 
wisdom. 

' We can only account for these disappointments in our mod- 
erate and reasonable expectations, by supposing the world so 
deeply sunk in the mire of delinquency, that not even Her- 
cules, were he to put his shoulder to the axletree, would be 
able to extricate it. We comfort ourselves, however, by the 
reflection that there are at least three good men left in this de- 
generate age to benefit the world by example should precept 
ultimately fail. And borrowing, for once, an example from 
certain sleepy writers, who, after the first emotions of surprise 
in finding their invaluable effusions neglected or despised, con- 
sole themselves with the idea that 'tis a stupid age, and look 
forward to posterity for redress; — we bequeath our volume 
to future generations,— and much good may it do them. 
Heaven grant they may be able to read it ! for, if our fashion- 
able mode of education continues to improve, as of late, I am 
under serious apprehensions that the period is not far distant 
when the discipline of the dancing master will supersede that 
of the grammarian ; crotchets and quavers supplant the alpha- 
bet ; and the heels, by an antipodean manoeuvre, obtain entire 
pre-eminence over the head. How does my heart yearn for 
poor dear posterity, when this work shall become as unintelli- 
gible to our grandchildren as it seems to be to their grand- 
fathers and grandmothers. 

In fact, for I love to be candid, we begin to suspect that 
many people read our numbers merely for their amusement, 
without paying any attention to the serious truths conveyed in 
every page. Unpardonable want of penetration ! not that we 
wish to restrict our readers in the article of laughing, which 
we consider as one of the dearest prerogatives of man, and the 
distinguishing characteristic which raises him above all other 
animals: let them laugh, therefore, if they will, provided 
they profit at the same time, and do not mistake our object. 
It is one of our indisputable facts that it is easier to laugh ten 
follies out of countenance than to coax, reason or flog a man 
out of one. In this odd, singular, and indescribable age, which 
is neither the age of gold, silver, iron, brass, chivalry, or pills, 



8 ALMA G UNDL 175 

as Sir John Carr asserts, a grave writer who attempts to 
attack folly with the heavy artillery of moral reasoning, will 
fare like Smollet's honest pedant, who clearly demonstrated by 
angles, &c, after the manner of Euclid, that it was wrong to 
do evil;— and was laughed at for his pains. Take my word for 
it, a little well-applied ridicule, like Hannibal's application of 
vinegar to rocks, will do more with certain hard heads and ob- 
durate hearts, than all the logic or demonstrations in Longinus 
or Euclid. But the people of Gotham, wise souls, are so much 
accustomed to see morality approach them clothed in formida- 
ble wigs and sable garbs, "with leaden eye that loves the 
ground," that they can never recognize her when, drest in 
gay attire, she comes tripping towards them with smiles and 
sunshine in her countenance. — Well, let the rogues remain in 
happy ignorance, for u ignorance is bliss," as the poets say; — 
and I put as implicit faith in poetry as I do in the almanac or 
in the newspaper ;— we will improve them, without their being 
the wiser for it, and they shall become better in spite of their 
teeth, and without their having the least suspicion of the re- 
formation working within them. 

Among all our manifold grievances, however, still some 
small but vivid rays of sunshine occasionally brighten along 
our path ; cheering our steps, and inviting us to persevere. 

The public have- paid some little regard to a few articles of 
our advice; — they have purchased our numbers freely;— so 
much the better for our publisher ; — they have read them at- 
tentively; — so much the better for themselves. The melan- 
choly fate of my dear aunt Charity has had a wonderful effect ; 
and I have now before me a letter from a gentleman who lives 
opposite to a couple of old ladies, remarkable for the interest 
they took in his affairs; — his apartments were absolutely in a 
state of blockade, and he was on the point of changing his 
lodgings, or capitulating, until the appearance of our ninth 
number, which he immediately sent over with his compli- 
ments ; ; — the good ladies took the hint, and have scarcely ap- 
peared at their window since. As to the wooden gentlemen, 
our friend Miss Sparkle assures me, they are wonderfully im- 
proved by our criticisms, and sometimes venture to make a 
remark, or attempt a pun in company, to the great edification 
of all who happen to understand them. As to red shawls, they 
are entirely discarded from the fair shoulders of our ladies— 
ever since the last importation of finery ; — nor has any lady, 
since the cold weather, ventured to expose her elbowg to the 



176 SALMA Q UNDL 

admiring gaze of scrutinizing passengers. But there is one 
victory we have achieved which has given us more pleasure 
than to have written down the whole administration : I am as- 
sured, from unquestionable authority, that our young ladies, 
doubtless in consequence of our weighty admonition, have not 
once indulged in that intoxicating, inflammatory, and whirli- 
gig dance, the waltz — ever since hot weather commenced. 
True it is, I understand, an attempt was made to exhibit it 
by some of the sable fair ones at the last African ball, but 
it was highly disapproved of by all the respectable elderly 
ladies presents 

These are sweet sources of comfort to atone for the many 
wrongs and misrepresentations heaped upon us by the world ; 
— for even we have experienced its ill-nature. How often 
have we heard ourselves reproached for the insidious applica- 
tions of the uncharitable ! — how often have we been accused 
of emotions which never found an entrance into our bosoms ! — 
how often have our sportive effusions been wrested to serve 
the purposes of particular enmity and bitterness! — Meddle- 
some spirits! little do they know our disposition; we "lack 
gall" to wound the feelings of a single innocent individual; we 
can even forgive them from the very bottom of our souls ; may 
they meet as ready a forgiveness from their own consciences ! 
like true and independent bachelors, having no domestic cares 
to interfere with our general benevolence, we consider it in- 
cumbent upon us to watch over the welfare of society ; and 
although we are indebted to the world for little else than left- 
handed favours, yet we feel a proud satisfaction in requiting 
evil with good, and the sneer of iiliberality with the unfeigned 
smile of good humour. With these mingled motives of selfish- 
ness and philanthropy we commenced our work, and if we 
cannot solace ourselves with the consciousness of having done 
much good! yet there is still one pleasing consolation left, 
which the world can neither give nor take away. There 
are moments,— lingering moments of listless indifference and 
heavy-hearted despondency, — when our best hopes and affec- 
tions slipping, as they sometimes will, from their hold on those 
objects to which they usually cling for support, seem aban- 
doned on the wide waste of cheerless existence, without a 
place to cast anchor; without a shore in view to excite a 
single wish, or to give a momentary interest to contempla- 
tion. We look back with delight upon many of these mo- 
ments of mental gloom, whiled away by the cheerful exercise 



SALMAGUNDI. 177 

of our pen, and consider every such triumph over the spleen as 
retarding the furrowing hand of time in its insidious encroach- 
ments on our brows. If, in addition to our own amusements, 
w^e have, as we jogged carelessly laughing along, brushed 
away one tear of dejection and called forth a smile in its place 
—if we have brightened the pale countenance of a single child 
of sorrow— we shall feel almost as much joy and rejoicing as 
a slang-whanger does when he bathes his pen in the heart's 
blood of a patron and benefactor ; or sacrifices one more illus- 
trious victim on the altar of party animosity. 



TO READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS. 

It is our misfortune to be frequently pestered, in our pere- 
grinations about this blessed city, by certain critical gad-flies ; 
who buzz around and merely attack the skin, without ever 
being able to penetrate the body. The reputation of our prom- 
ising protege Jeremy Cockloft the younger, has been assailed 
by these skin-deep critics ; they have questioned his claims to . 
originality, and even hinted that the ideas for his New-Jersey 
Tour were borrowed from a late work entitled " M^r Pocket- 
book." As there is no literary offence more despicable in the 
eyes of the trio than borrowing, we immediately called Jeremy 
to an account : when he proved, by the dedication of the work 
in question, that it was first published in London in March, 
1807 — and that his " Stranger in New- Jersey" had made its ap- 
pearance on the 24th of the preceding February. 

We were on the point of acquitting Jeremy with honour on 
the ground that it was impossible, knowing as he is, to bor- 
row from a foreign work one month before it was in existence ; 
when Will Wizard suddenly took up the cudgels for the crit- 
ics, and insisted that nothing was more probable ; for he recol- 
lected reading of an ingenious Dutch author who plainly con- 
victed the ancients of stealing from his labours ! So much 

for criticisn*. 



We have received a host of friendly and admonitory letters 
from different quarters, and among the rest a very loving 
epistle from Georgetown, Columbia, signed Teddy M'Gundy, 



178 SALMAGUNDI. 

who addresses us by the name of Saul M'Gundy, and insist 
that we are descended from the same Irish progenitors, atid 
nearly related. As friend Teddy seems to be an honest, me> ry 
rogue, we are sorry that we cannot admit his claims to (dn- 
dred; we thank him, however, for his good-will, and skould 
he ever be inclined to favour us with another epistle, w« will 
hint to him, and, at the same time, to our other numerous cor- 
respondents, that their communications will be infinitely more 
acceptable, if they will just recollect Tom Shuffleton's a4vice ( 
"pay the post-boy, Muggins." 



SALMAGUNDI. 179 



NO. XIV -SATURDAY, SEPT. 16, 1807. 



LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, 

TO ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL SLAVE-DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESS 
THE BASHAW OF TRIPOLI. 

Health and joy to the friend of my heart ! — May the angel 
of peace ever watch over thy dwelling, and the star of pros- 
perity shed its benignant lustre on all thy undertakings. Far 
other is the lot of thy captive friend;— his brightest hopes 
extend but to a lengthened period of weary captivity, and 
memory only adds to the measure of his griefs, by holding up 
a mirror which reflects with redoubled charms the hours of 
past felicity. In midnight slumbers my soul holds sweet con- 
verse with the tender objects of its affections;— it is then the 
exile is restored to his country ; — it is then the wide waste of 
waters that rolls between us disappears, and I clasp to my 
bosom the companion of my youth; I awake and find it is but 
a vision of the night. The sigh will rise, — the tear of dejection 
will steal down my cheek: — I fly to my pen, and strive to for- 
get myself, and my sorrows, in conversing with my friend. 

In such a situation, my good Asem, it cannot be expected 
that I should be able so wholly to abstract myself from my 
own feelings, as to give thee a full and systematic account of 
the singular people among whom my disastrous lot has been 
cast. I can only find leisure, from my own individual sor- 
rows, to entertain thee occasionally with some of the most 
prominent features of their character; and now and then a 
solitary picture of their most preposterous eccentricities. 

I have before observed, that among the distinguishing char- 
acteristics of the people of this logocracy, is their invincible 
love of talking; and, that I could compare the nation to noth- 
ing but a mighty wind-mill. Thou art doubtless at a loss to 



180 SALMAGUNDI 

conceive how this mill is supplied with grist; or, in other 
words, how it is possible to furnish subjects to supply the per- 
petual motion of so many tongues. 

The genius of the nation appears in its highest lustre in this 
particular in the discovery, or rather the application, of a sub- 
ject which seems to supply an inexhaustible mine of words. 
It is nothing more, my friend, than politics; a word which, I 
declare to thee, has perplexed me almost as much as the re- 
doubtable one of economy. On consulting a dictionary of this 
language, I found it denoted the science of government ; and 
the relations, situations, and dispositions of states and empires. 
—Good, thought I, for a people who boast of governing them- 
selves there could not be a more important subject of investi- 
gation. I therefore listened attentively, expecting to hear 
from "the most enlightened people under the sun," for so they 
modestly term themselves, sublime disputations on the science 
of legislation and precepts of political wisdom that would not 
have disgraced our great prophet and legislator himself! — 
but, alas, Asem ! how continually are my expectations disap- 
pointed ! how dignified a meaning does this word bear in the 
dictionary ; — how despicable its common application ; I find it 
extending to every contemptible discussion of local animosity, 
and every petty altercation of insignificant individuals. It 
embraces, alike, all manner of concerns ; from the organization 
of a divan, the election of a bashaw, or the levying of an army, 
to the appointment of a constable, the personal disputes of two 
miserable slang- whangers, the cleaning of the streets, or the 
economy of a dirt- cart. A couple of politicians will quarrel, 
with the most vociferous pertinacity, about the character of a 
bum-bailiff whom nobody cares for; or the deportment of a 
little great man whom nobody knows; -and this is called talk- 
ing politics ; nay ! it is but a few days since that I was annoyed 
by a debate between two of my fellow-lodgers, who were mag- 
nanimously employed in condemning a luckless wight to in- 
famy, because he chose to wear a red coat, and to entertain 
certain erroneous opinions some thirty years ago. Shocked at 
their illiberal and vindictive spirit, I rebuked them for thus 
indulging in slander and uncharitableness, about the colour of 
a coat; which had doubtless for many years been worn out; 
or the belief in errors, which, in all probability, had been long 
since atoned for and abandoned ; but they justified themselves 
by alleging that they were only engaged in politics, and exert- 
ing that liberty of speech, and freedom of discussion, which 



SALMAGUNDI. 181 

was the glory and safeguard of their national independence. 
"Oh, Mahomet!" thought I, "what a country must that be, 
which builds its political safety on ruined characters and the 
persecution of individuals !" 
Into what transports of surprise and incredulity am I con- 

* tinually betrayed, as the character of this eccentric people 
gradually developes itself to my observations. Every new re- 
search increases the perplexities in which I am involved, and 1 
am more than ever at a loss where to place them in the scale 
of my estimation. It is thus the philosopher, in pursuing 
truth through the labyrinth of doubt, error, and misrepresenta- 
tion, frequently finds himself bewildered in the mazes of con- 
tradictory experience; and almost wishes he could quietly 
retrace his wandering steps, steal back into the path of honest 
ignorance, and jog on once more in contented indifference. 

How fertile in these contradictions is this extensive logoc- 
racy! Men of different nations, manners, and languages live 
in this country in the most perfect harmony ; and nothing is 
more common than to see individuals, whose respective gov- 
ernments are at variance, taking each other by the hand and 
exchanging the offices of friendship. Nay, even on the subject 
of religion, which, as it affects our dearest interests, our earliest 
opinions and prejudices, some warmth and heart-burnings 
might be excused, which, even in our enlightened country, is 
so fruitful in difference between man and man !— even religion 
occasions no dissension among these people ; and it has even 
been discovered by one of their sages that believing in one God 
or twenty Gods • ' neither breaks a man's leg nor picks his 
pocket." The idolatrous Persian may here bow down before 
his everlasting fire, and prostrate himself towards the glowing 
east. The Chinese may adore his Fo, or his Josh; the Egyp- 
tian his stork; and the Mussulman practise, unmolested, the 
divine precepts of our immortal prophet. Nay, even the for- 

J lorn, abandoned Atheist, who lies down at night without com- 
mitting himself to the protection of heaven, and rises in the 
morning without returning thanks for his safety ; — who hath 
no deity but his own will;— whose soul, like the sandy desert, 
is barren of every flower of hope to throw a solitary bloom 
over the deal level of sterility and soften the wide extent of 
desolation j — whose darkened views extend not beyond the hori- 
zon that bounds his cheerless existence;— to whom no blissful 
perspective opens beyond the grave;— even he is suffered to 
indulge in his desperate opinions, without exciting one other 



182 SALMAGUNDI. 

emotion than pity or contempt. But this mild and tolerating 
spirit reaches not beyond the pale of religion:— once differ in 
politics, in mere theories, visions, and chimeras, the growth of 
interest, of folly, or madness, and deadly warfare ensues-, 
every eye flashes fire, every tongue is loaded with reproach, 
and every heart is filled with gall and bitterness. 

At this period several unjustifiable and serious injuries on 
the part of the barbarians of the British island, have given a 
new impulse to the tongue and the pen, and occasioned a 
terrible wordy fever.— Do not suppose, my friend, that I mean 
to condemn any proper and dignified expression of resentment 
for injuries. On the contrary, I love to see a word before a 
blow, for "in the fulness of the heart the tongue moveth." 
But my long experience has convinced me that people who 
talk the most about taking satisfaction for affronts, generally 
content themselves with talking instead of revenging the in- 
sult : like the street women of this country, who, after a pro- 
digious scolding, quietly sit down and fan themselves cool as 
fast as possible. But to return :— the rage for talking has now, 
in consequence of the aggressions I alluded to, increased to a 
degree far beyond what I have observed heretofore. In the 
gardens of his highness of Tripoli are fifteen thousand bee- 
hives, three hundred peacocks, and a prodigious number of 
parrots and baboons;— and yet I declare to thee, Asem, that 
their buzzing, and squalling, and chattering is nothing com- 
pared to the wild uproar and war of words now raging within 
the bosom of this mighty and distracted logocracy. Politics 
pervade every city, every village, every temple, every porter- 
house; — the universal question is, u what is the news?" — This 
is a kind of challenge to political debate ; and as no two men 
think exactly alike, 'tis ten to one but before they finish all the 
polite phrases in the language are exhausted by way of giving 
fire and energy to argument. What renders this talking fever 
more alarming, is that the people appear to be in the unhappy 
state of a patient whose palate nauseates the medicine best cal- 
culated for the cure of his disease, and seem anxious to con- 
tinue in the full enjoyment of their chattering epidemic. They 
alarm each other by direful reports and fearful apprehensions : 
like I have seen a knot of old wives in this country entertain 
themselves with stories of ghosts and goblins until their im- 
aginations were in a most agonizing panic. Every day begets 
some new tale, big with agitation; and the busy goddess, 
rumour, to speak in the poetic language of the Christians, is 



BALM A O UNDL 183 

constantly in motion. She mounts her rattling stage-wagon 
and gallops about the country, freighted with a load of 
"hints," " informations," u extracts of letters from respectable 
gentlemen," " observations of respectable correspondents," and 
" unquestionable authorities;" — which her high-priests, the 
slang-whangers, retail to their sapient followers with all the 
solemnity — and all the authenticity of oracles. True it is, the 
unfortunate slang-whangers are sometimes at a loss for food to 
supply this insatiable appetite for intelligence; and are, not 
unf requently, reduced to the necessity of manufacturing dishes 
suited to the taste of the times : to be served up as morning 
and evening repasts to their disciples. 

When the hungry politician is thus full charged with im- 
portant information, he sallies forth to give due exercise to his 
tongue ; and tells all he knows to everybody he meets. Now 
it is a thousand to one that every person he meets is just as 
wise as himself, charged with the same articles of information, 
and possessed of the same violent inclination to give it vent ; 
for in this country every man adopts some particular slang- 
whanger as the standard of his judgment, and reads every 
thing he writes, if he reads nothing else ; which is doubtless 
the reason why the people of this logocracy are so rnarvelously 
enlightened. So away they tilt at each other with their bor- 
rowed lances, advancing to the combat with the opinions and 
speculations of their respective slang-whangers, which in all 
probability are diametrically opposite: — here, then, arises as 
fair an opportunity for a battle of words as heart could wish ; 
and thou mayest rely upon it, Asem, they do not let it pass un- 
improved. They sometimes begin with argument ; but in pro- 
cess of time, as the tongue begins to wax wanton, other auxil- 
iaries become necessary ; recrimination commences ; reproach 
follows close at its heels ; — from political abuse they proceed to 
personal; and thus often is a friendship of years trampled 
down by this contemptible enemy, this gigantic dwarf of poli- 
tics, the mongrel issue of grovelling ambition and aspiring 
ignorance ! 

There would be but little harm indeed in all this, if it ended 
merely in a broken head ; for this might soon be healed, and 
the scar, if any remained, might serve as a warning ever after 

against the indulgence of political intemperance; at the 

worst, the loss of such heads as these would be a gain to the 
nation. But the evil extends far deeper ; it threatens to impair 
all social intercourse, and even to sever the sacred union of 



184 8 ALMA G UNDL 

family and kindred, The convivial table is disturbed; the 
cheerful fireside is invaded; the smile of social hilarity is 
chased away ; — the bond of social love is broken by the ever- 
lasting intrusion of this fiend of contention, who lurks in the 
sparkling bowl, crouches by the fireside, growls in the friendly 
circle, infests every avenue to pleasure ; and, like the scowling 
incubus, sits on the bosom of society, pressing down and 
smothering every throb and pulsation of liberal philanthropy. 

But thou wilt perhaps ask, " What can these people dispute 
about? one would suppose that being all free and equal, they 
would harmonize as brothers; children of the same parent, 
and equal heirs of the same inheritance." This theory is most 
exquisite, my good friend, but in practice it turns out the very 
dream of a madman. Equality, Asem, is one of the most con- 
summate scoundrels that ever crept from the brain of a politi- 
cal juggler — a fellow who thrusts his hand into the pocket of 
honest industry, or enterprising talent, and sqanders their 
hard-earned profits on profligate idleness or indolent stupidity. 
There will always be an inequality among mankind so long as 
a portion of it is enlightened and industrious, and the rest idle 
and ignorant. The one will acquire a larger share of wealth, 
and its attendant comforts, refinements, and luxuiies of life ; 
and the influence, and power, which those will always possess 
who have the greatest ability of administering to the neces- 
sities of their fellow-creatures. These advantages will inevi- 
tably excite envy; and envy as inevitably begets ill-will:— 
hence arises that eternal warfare, which the lower orders of 
society are waging against those who have raised themselves 
by their own merits, or have been raised by the merits of their 
ancestors, above the common level. In a nation possessed of 
quick feelings and impetuous passions, the hostility might en- 
gender deadly broils and bloody commotions; but here it 
merely vents itself in high-sounding words, which lead to con= 
tinual breaches of decorum ; or in the insidious assassination o 
character, and a restless propensity among the base to blacken 
every reputation which is fairer than their own. 

I cannot help smiling sometimes to see the solicitude with 
which the people of America, so called from the country hav- 
ing been first discovered by Christopher Columbus, battle 
about them when any election takes place; as if they had the 
least concern in the matter, or were to be benefited by an 
exchange of bashaws; — they really seem ignorant that non8 
but the bashaws and their dependants are at all interested in 



SAL MA G VNDL 185 

the event ; and that the people at large will not find their situ- 
ation altered in the least. I formerly gave thee an account of 
an election which took place under my eye. — The result has 
been that the people, as some of' the slang- w hangers say, have 
obtained a glorious triumph; wiiich, however, is flatly denied 
by the opposite slang- whangers, who insist that their party is 
composed of the true sovereign people; and that the others 
are all jacobins, Frenchmen, and Irish rebels. I ought to 
apprise thee that the last is a term of great reproach here; 
which, perhaps, thou wouldst not otherwise imagine, consider- 
ing that it is not many years since this very people were 
engaged in a revolution ; the failure of which would have sub- 
jected them to the same ignominious epithet, and a participa- 
tion in which is now the highest recommendation tb public 
confidence. By Mahomet, but it cannot be denied, that the 
consistency of this people^ like every thing else appertaining to 
them, is on a prodigious great scale ! To return, however, to 
the event of the election. — The people triumphed, and much 
good has it done them. I, for my part, expected to see won- 
derful changes, and most magical metamorphoses. I expected 
to see the people all rich, that they would be all gentlemen 
bashaws, riding in their coaches, and faring sumptuously every 
day; emancipated from toil, and revelling in luxurious ease. 
Wilt thou credit me, Asem, when I declare to thee that every 
thing remains exactly in the same state it was before the last 
wordy campaign?— except a few noisy retainers, who have 
crept into office, and a few noisy patriots^ on the other side, 
who have been kicked out, there is not the least difference. 
The labourer toils for his daily support ; the beggar still lives 
on the charity of those who have any charity to bestow ; and 
the only solid satisfaction the multitude have reaped is, that 
they have got a new governor, or bashaw, whom they will 
praise, idolize, and exalt for a while ; and afterwards, notwith- 
standing the sterling merits he really possesses, in compliance 
with immemorial custom, they will abuse, calumniate, and 
t.iample him under foot. 

Such, my dear Asem, is the way in which the wise people of 
''the most enlightened country under the sun" are amused 
with straws and puffed up with mighty conceits ; like a certain 
fish I have seen here, which, having his belly tickled for a short 
time, will swell and puff himself up to twice his usual size, and 
become a mere bladder of wind and vanity. 

The blessing of a true Mussulman light on thee, good Asem; 



186 SALMAGUNDI. 

ever while thou livest be true to thy prophet ; and rejoice, that, 
though the boasting political chatterers of this logocracy cast 
upon thy countrymen the ignominious epithet of slaves, thou 
livest in a country where the people, instead of being at the 
mercy of a tyrant with a million of heads, have nothing to do 
but submit to the will of a bashaw of only* three tails. 

Ever thine, Mustapha 



COCKLOFT HALL. 

BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

Those who pass their time immured in the smoky circumfer- 
ence of the city, amid the rattling of carts, the brawling of the 
multitude, and the variety of unmeaning and discordant 
sounds that prey insensibly upon the nerves and beget a weari- 
ness of the spirits, can alone understand and feel that expan- 
sion of the heart, that physical renovation which a citizen 
experiences when he steals forth from his dusty prison to 
breathe the free air of heaven and enjoy the clear face of 
nature. Who that has rambled by the side of one of our ma- 
jestic rivers at the hour of sunset, when the wildly romantic 
scenery around is softened and tinted by the voluptuous mist 
of evening ; when the bold and swelling outlines of the distant 
mountain seem melting into the glowing horizon and a rich 
mantle of refulgence is thrown over the- whole expanse of the 
heavens, but must have felt how abundant is nature in 
sources of pure enjoyment; how luxuriant in all that can 
enliven the senses or delight the imagination. The jocund 
zephyr, full freighted with native fragrance, sues sweetly to 
the senses; the chirping of the thousand varieties of insects 
with which our woodlands abound, forms a concert cf simple 
melody ; even the barking of the farm dog, the lowing of the 
cattle, the tinkling of their bells, and the strokes of the wood- 
man's axe from the opposite shore, seem to partake of the soft- 
ness of the scene and fall tunefully upon the ear; while the 
voice of the villager, chanting some rustic ballad, swells from a 
distance in the semblance of the very music of harmonious love. 

A-t such time I feel a sensation of sweet tranquillity; a 
hallowed calm is diffused over my senses ; I cast my eyes 



SALMAGUNDI. 1ST 

around, and every object is serene, simple, and beautiful ; no 
warring passion, no discordant string there vibrates to the 
touch of ambition, self-interest, hatred, or revenge ;— I am at 
peace with the whole world, and hail all mankind as friends 
and brothers.— Blissful moments ! ye recall the careless days of 
my boyhood, when mere existence was happiness, when hope 
was certainty, this world a paradise, and every woman a min- 
istering angel !— surely man was designed for a tenant of the 
universe, instead of being pent up in these dismal cages, these 
dens of strife, disease, and discord. We were created to range 
the fields, to sport among the groves, to build castles in the air, 
and have every one of them realized ! 

A whole legion of reflections like these insinuated themselves 
into my mind, and stole me from the influence of the cold reali- 
ties before me, as I took my accustomed walk, a few weeks 
since, on the battery. Here watching the splendid mutations 
of one of our summer skies, which emulated the boasted glories 
of an Italian sun-set, I all at once discovered that it was but to 
pack up my portmanteau, bid adieu for awhile to my elbow- 
chair, and in a little time I should be transported from the re- 
gion of smoke, and noise, and dust, to the enjoyment of a far 
sweeter prospect and a brighter sky. The next morning I was 
off full tilt to Cockloft-Hall, leaving my man Pompey to follow 
at his leisure with my baggage. I love to indulge in rapid 
transitions, which are prompted by the quick impulse of the 
moment;— 'tis the only mode of guarding against that intrud- 
ing and deadly foe to all parties of pleasure,— anticipation. 

Having now made good my retreat, until the black frosts 
commence, it is but a piece of civility due to my readers, who I 
trust are, ere this, my friends, to give them a proper introduc- 
tion to my present residence. I do this as much to gratify 
them as myself : well knowing a reader is always anxious to 
learn how his author is lodged, whether in a garret, a cellar, a 
hovel, or a palace ; at least an author is generally vain enough 
to think so ; and an author's vanity ought sometimes to be 
gratified ; poor vagabond ! it is often the only gratification he 
ever taste's in this world ! 

Cockloft-hall is the country residence of the family, or 
rather the paternal mansion ; which, like the mother country, 
sends forth whole colonies to populate the face of the earth. 
Pindar whimsically denominates it the family hive ! and there 
is at least as much truth as humour in my cousin's epithet:— 
for many a redundant swarm has it produced. I don't recollect 



188 SALMAGUNDI. 

^hethe* * * ^ ) at any time mentioned to my readers, for> 
seldom look back on what I have written, that the fertility of 
the Cocklofts is proverbial. The female members of the family 
are most incredibly fruitful ; and to use a favourite phrase of 
old Cockloft, who is excessively addicted to backgammon, 
they seldom fail "to throw doublets every time." I myself 
have known three or four very industrious young men reduced 
to great extremities, with some of these capital breeders; 
heaven smiled upon their union, and enriched them with a 
numerous and hopeful offspring— who eat them out of doors. 

But to return to the hall.— It is pleasantly situated on the 
bank of a sweet pastoral stream : not so near town as to invite 
an inundation of unmeaning, idle acquaintance, who come to 
lounge away an afternoon, nor so distant as to render it an 
absolute deed of charity or friendship to perform the journey. 
It is one of the oldest habitations in the country, and was 
built by my cousin Christopher's grandfather, who was also 
mine by the mother's side, in his latter days, to form, as the old 
gentleman expressed himself, "a snug retreat, where he meant 
to sit himself down in his old days and be comfortable for the 
rest of his life." He was at this time a few years over four 
score: but this was a common saying of his, with which he 
usually closed his airy speculations. One would have thought, 
from the long vista of years through which he contemplated 
many of his projects, that the good man had forgot the age of 
the patriarchs had long since gone by, and calculated upon 
living a century longer at least. He was for a considerable 
time in doubt on the question of roofing his house with shingles 
or slate :— shingles would not last above thirty years ! but then 
they were much cheaper than slates. He settled the matter by 
a kind of compromise, and determined to build with shingles 
first; "and when they are worn out," said the old gentleman, 
triumphantly, "'twill be time enough to replace them with 
more durable materials !" But his contemplated improvements 
surpassed every thing ; and scarcely had he a roof over his 
head, when he discovered a thousand things to be arranged 
before he could "sit down comfortably." In the first place, 
every tree and bush on the place was cut down or grubbed up 
by the roots, because they were not placed to his mind ; and a 
vast quantity of oaks, chestnuts, and elms, set out in clumps 
and rows, and labyrinths, which he observed in about five-and- 
twenty or thirty years at most, would yield a very tolerable 
shade, and, moreover, shut out all the surrounding country; 



SALMAGUNDI 189 

for he was determined, he said, to have all his views on his 
own land, and be beholden to no man for a prospect. This, 
my learned readers will perceive, was something very like the 
idea of Lorenzo de Medici, who gave as a reason for preferring 
one of his seats above all the others, "that all the ground 
within view of it was his own:" now, whether my grandfather 
ever heard of the Medici, is more than I can say; I rather 
think, however, from the characteristic originality of the 
Cocklofts, that it was a whim-wham of his own begetting. 
Another odd notion of the old gentleman was to blow up a 
large bed of rocks, for the purpose of having a fish-pond, 
although the river ran at about one hundred yards distance 
from the house, and was well stored with fish ; — but there was 
nothing, he said, like having things to one's-self. So at it he 
went with all the ardour of a projector who has just hit upon 
some splendid and useless whim-wham. As he proceeded, his 
views enlarged; he would have a summer-house built on the 
margin, of the fish-pond ; he would have it surrounded with 
eJ.i^s and willows ; and he would have a cellar dug under it, 
lor some incomprehensible purpose, which remains a secret to 
this day. "Ina few years," he observed, "it would be a de- 
lightful piece of wood and water, where he might ramble on a 
summer's noon, smoke his pipe, and enjoy himself in his old 
days :"— thrice honest old soul! — he died of an apoplexy in 
his ninetieth year, just as ha had begun to blow up the fish- 
pond. 

Let no one ridicule the whim- whams of my grandfather. 

If — and of this there is no doubt, for wise men have said it — if 
life is but a dream, happy is he who can make the most of the 
illusion. 

Since my grandfather's death, the hall has passed through 
the hands of a succession of true old cavaliers, like himself, 
who gloried in observing the golden rules of hospitality; 
which, according to the Cockloft principle, consist in giving a 
guest the freedom of the house, cramming him with beef and 
pudding, and, if possible, laying him under the table with 
prime port, claret, or London particular. The mansion ap- 
pears to have been consecrated to the jolly god, and teems 
with monuments sacred to conviviality. Every chest of draw- 
ers, clothes-press, and cabinet, is decorated with enormous 
China punch-bowls, which Mrs. Cockloft has paraded with 
much ostentation, particularly in her favourite red damask 
bed-chamber, and in which a projector might, with great satis- 



190 SALMAGUNDI 

faction, practise his experiments on fleets, diving-bells, and 
sub-marine boats. 

I have before mentioned cousin Christopher's profound ven- 
eration for antique furniture ; in consequence of which the old 
hall is furnished in much the same style with the house in 
town. Old-fashioned bedsteads, with high testers ; massy 
clothes-presses, standing most majestically on eagles' claws, 
and ornamented with a profusion of shining brass handles, 
clasps, and hinges : and around the grand parlour are solemnly 
arranged a set of high-backed, leather-bottomed, massy, ma- 
hogany chairs, that always remind me of the formal long- 
waisted belles, who flourished in stays and buckram, about the 
time they were in fashion. 

If I may judge from their height, it was not the fashion for 
gentlemen in those days to loll over the bacK of a lady's chair, 
and whisper in her ear what— might be as well spoken aloud ; — 
at least, they must have been Patagonians to have effected it. 
Will Wizard declares that he saw a little fat German gallant 
attempt once to whisper Miss Barbara Cockloft in this manner, 
but being unluckily caught by the chin, he aangied and kicked 
about for half a minute, before he could find terra firnia;— lut 
Will is much addicted to hyperbole, by reason of his having 
been a great traveller. 

But what the Cocklofts most especially pride themselves 
upon, is the possession of several family portraits, which ex- 
hibit as honest a square set of portly, well-fed looking gentle- 
men, and gentlewomen, as ever grew and flourished under the 
pencil of a Dutch painter. Old Christopher, who is a complete 
genealogist, has a story to tell of each ; and dilates with co- 
pious eloquence on the great services of the general in large 
sleeves, during the old French war ; and on the piety of the lady 
in blue velvet, who so attentively peruses her book, and was 
once so celebrated for a beautiful arm: but much as- 1 rever- 
ence my illustrious ancestors, I find little to admire in their 
biography, except my cousin's excellent memory; which is 
most provokingly retentive of every uninteresting particular. 

My allotted chamber in the hall is the same that was occupied 
in days of yore by my honoured uncle John. The room exhib- 
its many memorials which recall to my remembrance the solid 
excellence and amiable eccentricities of that gallant old lad. 
Over the mantel-piece hangs the portrait of a young lady 
dressed in a flaring, long-waisted, blue-silk gown ; be-fiowered, 
and be-furbelowed, and be-cuffed, in a most -abundant manner; 



SALMAGUNDI. 191 

she holds in one hand a book, which she very complaisantly 
neglects to turn and smile on the spectator; in the other a 
flower, which I hope, for the honour of dame nature, was the 
sole production of the painter's imagination ; and a little behind 
her is something tied to a blue riband, but whether a, little dog, 
a monkey, or a pigeon, must be left to the judgment of future 
commentators. The little damsel, tradition says, was my 
uncle John's third flame; and he would infallibly have run 
away with her, could he have persuaded her into the measure ; 
but at that time ladies were not quite so easily run away with 
as Columbine ; and my uncle, failing in the point, took a lucky 
thought; and with great gallantry ran off with her picture, 
which he conveyed in triumph to Cockloft-hall, and hung up 
in his bed-chamber as a monument of his enterprising spirit. 
The old gentleman prided himself mightily on this chivalric 
manoeuvre ; always chuckled, and pulled up his stock when he 
contemplated the picture, and never related the exploit without 
winding up with — "I might, indeed, have carried off the origi- 
nal, had I chose to dangle a little longer after her chariot- 
wheels ; — for, to do the girl justice, I believe she had a liking 
for me ; but I always scorned to coax, my boy,— always,-— 'twas 
my way." My uncle John was of a happy temperament; — I 
would give half I am worth for his talent at self -consolation. 

The Miss Cocklofts have made several spirited attempts to 
introduce modern furniture into the hall; but with very indif- 
ferent success. Modern style has always been an object of 
great anno3 r ance to honest Christopher ; and is ever treated by 
him with sovereign contempt, as an upstart intruder. — It is a 
common observation of his., that your old-fashioned substantial 
furniture bespeaks the respectability of one's ancestors, and in- 
dicates that the family has been used to hold up its head for 
more than the present generation ; whereas the fragile appen= 
dages of modern style seemed to be emblems of mushroom 
gentility ; and, to his mind, predicted that the family dignity 
would moulder away and vanish with the finery thus put or 
of a sudden. — The same whim- wham makes him averse to hav- 
ing his house surrounded with poplars ; which he stigmatizes 
as mere upstarts ; just fit to ornament the shingle palaces of 
modern gentry, a,nd characteristic of the establishments they 
decorate. Indeed, so far does he carry his veneration for all 
the antique trumpery, that he can scarcely see the venerable 
dust brushed from its resting place on the old-fashioned testers ; 
or a gray-bearded spider dislodged from his ancient inheritance 



192 SALMAGUNDI. 

without groaning ; and I once saw him in a transport of passion 
on Jeremy's knocking down a mouldering martin-coop with his 
tennis-ball, which had been set up in the latter days of my 
grandfather. Another object of his peculiar affection is an old 
English cherry tree, which leans against a corner of the hall ; 
and whether the house supports it, or it supports the house, 
would be, I believe, a question of some difficulty to decide. It 
is held sacred by friend Christopher because he planted and 
reared it himself, and had once well-nigh broke his neck by a 
fall from one of its branches. This is one of his favourite 
stories : — and there is reason to believe, that if the tree was 
out of the way, the old gentleman would forget the whole af- 
fair ; — which would be a great pity. — The old tree has long since 
ceased bearing, and is exceedingly infirm;- -every tempest robs 
it of a limb ; and one would suppose from the lamentations of 
my old friend, on such occasions, that he had lost one of his 
own. He often contemplates it in a half-melancholy, half- 
moralizing humour — ''together, "he says, " have we flourished, 
and together shall we wither away : — a few years, and both our 
heads will be laid low; and, perhaps, my mouldering bones 
may, one day or other, mingle with the dust of the tree I have 
planted." He often fancies, he says, that it rejoices to see him 
when ho revisits the hall ; and that its leaves assume a brighter 
verdure, as if to welcome his arrival. How whimsically are 
our tenderest feelings assailed ! At one time the old tree had 
obtruded a withered branch before Miss Barbara's window, and 
she desired her father to order the gardener to saw it off. I 
shall never forget the old man's answer, and the look that ac- 
companied it. "What," cried he, "lop off the limbs of my 
cherry tree in its old age ? — why do you not cut off the gray 
locks of your poor old father ?" 

Do my readers yawn at this long family detail ? They are 
welcome to throw down our work, and never resume it again. 
I have no care for such ungratified spirits, and will not throw 
away a thought on one of them ; — full often have I contributed 
to their amusement, and have I not a right, for once, to consult 
my own ? Who is there that does not fondly turn, at times, to 
linger round those scenes which were once the haunt of his boy- 
hood, ere his heart grew heavy and his head waxed gray ;— and 
to dwell with fond affection on the friends who have twined 
themselves round his heart, — —mingled in all his enjoyments, 

contributed to all his felicities ? If there be any who ca,n- 

not relish these enjoyments, let them despair; — for they have 



SALMAGUNDI. 193 

been so soiled in their intercourse with the world, as to be in- 
capable of tasting some of the purest pleasures that survive the 
happy period of youth. 

To such as have not yet lost the rural feeling, I address this 
simple family picture ; and hi the honest sincerity of a warm 
heart, I invite them to turn aside from bustle, care, and toil, 
to tarry with me for a season, in the hospitable mansion of the 
Cocklofts. 



I was really apprehensive, on reading the following effusion 
of Will Wizard, that he still retained that pestilent hankering 
after puns of which we lately convicted him. He, however, 
declares, that he is fully authorized by the example of the most 
popular critics and wits of the present age, whose manner and 
matter he has closely, and he natters himself successfully, 
copied in the subsequent essay. 



• THEATRICAL INTELLIGENCE. 

BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

The uncommon healthiness of the season, occasioned, as 
several "learned physicians assure me, by the universal preva- 
lence of the influenza, has encouraged the chieftain of our dra- 
matic corps to marshal his forces, and to commence the cam- 
paign at a much earlier day than usual. He has been induced 
to take the field thus suddenly, I am told, by the invasion of 
certain foreign marauders, who pitched their tents at Vauxhall- 
Garden during the warm months ; and taking advantage of his 
army being disbanded and dispersed in summer quarters, com- 
mitted sad depredations upon the borders of his territories :— - 
carrying off a considerable portion of his winter harvest, and 
murdering some of his most distinguished characters. 

It is true, these hardy invaders have been reduced to great 
extremity by the late heavy rains, which injured and de- 
stroyed much of their camp-equipage ; besides spoiling the best 
part of their wardrobe. Two cities, a triumphal car, and a 
new moon for Cinderella, together with the barber's boy who 
was employed every night to powder and make it shine white. 



194 SALMAGUJSDL 

have been entirely washed away, and the sea has become very 
wet and mouldy; insomuch that great apprehensions are 
entertained that it will never be dry enough for use. Add to 
this the noble county Paris had the misfortune to tear his cor- 
duroy breeches, in the scuffle with Eomeo, by reason of the 
tomb being very wet, which occasioned him to slip ; and he 
and his noble rival possessing but one poor pair of satin ones 
between them, were reduced to considerable shifts to keep up 
the dignity of their respective houses. In spite of these disad- 
vantages, and the untoward circumstances, they continued to 
enact most intrepidly ; performing with much ease and confi- 
dence, inasmuch as they were seldom pestered with an audi- 
ence to criticise and put them out of countenance. It is 
rumoured that the last heavy shower absolutely dissolved the 
company, and that our manager has nothing further to appre- 
hend from that quarter. 

The theatre opened on Wednesday last, with great eclat, as 
we critics say, and almost vied in brilliancy with that of my 
superb friend Consequa in Canton ; where the castles- were all 
ivory, the sea mother-of-pearl, the skies gold and silver leaf, 
and the outside of the boxes inlaid with scallop shell-work. 
Those who want a better description of the theatre, may as 
well go and see it ; and then they can judge for themselves. 
For the gratification of a highly respectable class of readers, 
who love to see every thing on paper, I had indeed prepared a 
circumstantial and truly incomprehensible account of it, such 
as your traveller always fills his book with, and which I defy 
the most intelligent architect, even the great Sir Christopher 
Wren, to understand. I had jumbled cornices, and pilasters, 
and pillars, and capitals, and trigliphs, and modules, and 
plinths, and volutes, and perspectives, and foreshortenings, 
helter-skelter; and had set all the orders of architecture, Doric, 
Ionic, Corinthian, etc. , together by the ears, in order to work 
out a satisfactory description ; but the manager having sent 
me a polite note, requesting that I would not take off the sharp 
edge, as he whimsically expresses it, of public curiosity, thereby 
diminishing the receipts of his house, I have willingly con- 
sented to oblige him, and have left my description at the store 
of our publisher, where any person may see it — provided he 
applies at a proper hour. 

I cannot refrain here from giving vent to the satisfaction 
I received from the excellent performances of the different 
actors one and all; and particularly the gentlemen who shifted 



SALMAGUNDI. 195 

the scenes, who acquitted themselves throughout with great 
celerity, dignity, pathos and effect. Nor must I pass over the 
peculiar merits of my friend John, who gallanted off the 
chairs and tables in the most dignified and circumspect man- 
ner. Indeed, I have had frequent occasion to applaud the cor- 
rectness with which this gentleman fulfils the parts allotted 
him, and consider him as one of the best general performers in 
the company. My friend, the cockney, found considerable 
fault with the manner in which John shoved a huge rock from 
behind the scenes ; maintaining that he should have put his left 
foot forward, and pushed it with his right hand, that being the 
method practised by his contemporaries of the royal theatres, 
and universally approved by their best critics. He also took 
exception to John's coat, which he pronounced too short by a 
foot at least ; particularly when he turned his back to the com- 
pany. But I look upon these objections in the same light as 
new readings, and insist that John shall be allowed to 
manoeuvre his chairs and tables, shove his rocks, and wear his 
skirts in that style which his genius best effects. My hopes in 
the rising merit of this favourite actor daily increase ; and I 
would hint to the manager the propriety of giving him a 
benefit, advertising in the usual style of play- bills, as a 
"springe to catch woodcocks," that, between the play and 
farce, John will make a bow— for that night only ! 

I am told that no pains have been spared to make the exhibi- 
tions of this season as splendid as possible. Several expert rat- 
catchers have been sent into different parts of the country to 
catch white mice for the grand pantomime of Cinderella. A 
nest full of little squab Cupids have been taken in the neigh- 
bourhood of Communipaw; they are as yet but half fledged, 
of the true Holland breed, and it is hoped will be able to fly 
about by the middle of October ; otherwise they will be sus- 
pended about the stage by the waistband, like little alligators 
in an apothecary's shop, as the pantomime must positively be 
performed by that time. Great pains and expense have been 
incurred in the importation of one of the most portly pump- 
kins in New-England ; and the public may be assured there is 
now one on board a vessel from New-Haven, which will con- 
tain Cinderella's coach and six with perfect ease, were the 
white mice even ten times as large. 

Also several barrels of hail, rain, brimstone, and gunpowder, 
are in store for melo-dramas; of which a number are to be 
played off this winter. It is furthermore whispered me that 



196 SALMAGUNDI 

the great thunder-drum has been new braced, and an expert 
performer on that instrument engaged, who will thunder in 
plain English, so as to be understood by the most illiterate 
hearer. This will be infinitely preferable to the miserable 
Italian thunderer employed last winter by Mr. Ciceri, who 
performed in such an unnatural and outlandish tongue that 
none but the scholars of signor Da Ponte could understand 
him. It will be a further gratification to the patriotic audi- 
ence to know, that the present thunderer is a fellow country- 
man, born at Dunderbarrack, among the echoes of the High- 
lands ; — and that he thunders with peculiar emphasis and pom- 
pous enunciation, in the true style of a fourth of July orator. 

In addition to all these additions, the manager has provided 
an entire new snow-storm; the very sight of which will be 
quite sufficient to draw a shawl over every naked bosom in the 
theatre; the snow is perfectly fresh, having been manufac- 
tured last August. 

N. B. The outside of the theatre has been ornamented with a 
new chimnejl* 



SALMAGUNDI 197 



NO. XV.-THURSDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1807. 



SKETCHES FROM NATURE. 

BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

The brisk north-westers, which prevailed not long since, had 
a powerful effect in arresting the progress of belles, beaux, and 
wild pigeons in their fashionable northern tour, and turning 
them back to the more balmy region of the South. Among 
the rest, I was encountered, full butt, by a blast which set my 
teeth chattering, just as I doubled one of the frowning bluffs 
of the Mohawk mountains, in my route to Niagara ; and facing 
about incontinently, I forthwith scud before the wind, and a 
few days since arrived at my old quarters in New- York. My 
first care, on returning from so long an absence, was to visit 
the worthy family of the Cocklofts, whom I found safe, bur- 
rowed in their country mansion. On inquiring for my highly 
respected coadjutor, Langstaff, I learned with great concern 
that he had relapsed into one of his eccentric fits of the spleen, 
3ver since the era of a turtle dinner given by old Cockloft to 
some of the neighbouring squires: wherein the old gentleman 
had achieved a glorious victory, in laying honest Launcelot 
fairly under the table. Langstaff, although fond of the social 
board, and cheerful glass, yet abominates any excess ; and has 
an invincible aversion to getting mellow, considering it a wil- 
ful outrage on the sanctity of imperial mind, a senseless abuse 
of the body, and an unpardonable, because a voluntary, pros- 
tration of both mental and personal dignity. I have heard 
him moralize on the subject, in a style that would have done 
honour to Michael Cassia himself; but I believe, if the truth 
were known, this antipathy rather arises from his having, as 
the phrase is, but a weak head, and nerves so extremely sensi- 
tive, that he is sure to suffer severely from a frolic; and will 



198 SALMAGUNDI. 

groan and make resolutions against it for a week afterwards. 
He therefore took this waggish exploit of old Christopher's, and 
the consequent quizzing which he underwent, in high dudgeon, 
had kept aloof from company for a fortnight, and appeared to 
be meditating some deep plan of retaliation upon his mis- 
chievous old crony. He had, however, for the last day or two, 
shown some symptoms of convalescence : had listened, without 
more than half a dozen twitches of impatience, to one of Chris* 
topher's unconscionable long stories; and even was seen to 
smile, for the one hundred and thirtieth time, at a venerable 
joke originally borrowed from Joe Miller: but which, by dint 
of long occupancy, and frequent repetition, the old gentleman 
now firmly believes happened to himself somewhere in New- 
England. 

As I am well acquainted with Launcelot's haunts, I soon 
found him out. He was lolling on his favourite bench, rudely 
constructed at the foot of an old tree, which is full of fantasti- 
cal twists, and with its spreading branches forms a canopy of 
luxuriant foliage. This tree is a kind of chronicle of the short 
reigns of his uncle John's mistresses ; and its trunk is sorely 
wounded with carvings of true lovers' knots, hearts, darts, 
names, and inscriptions!— frail memorials of the variety of the 
fair dames who captivated the wandering fancy of that old 
cavalier in the days of his youthful romance. Launcelot holds 
this tree in particular regard, as he does every thing else con- 
nected with the memory of his good uncle John. He was re- 
clining, in one of his usual brown studies, against its trunk, 
and gazing pensively upon the river that glided just by, wash- 
ing the drooping branches of the dwarf willows that fringed its 
bank. My appearance roused him;— he grasped my hand with 
his usual warmth, and with a tremulous but close pressure, 
which spoke that his heart entered into the salutation. After 
a number of affectionate inquiries and felicitations, such as 
friendship, not form, dictated, he seemed to relapse into his 
former flow of thought, and to resume the chain of ideas my 
appearance had broken for a moment. 

"I was reflecting," said he, "my dear Anthony, upon some 
observations I made in our last number; and considering 
whether the sight of objects once dear to the affections, or of 
scenes where we have passed different happy periods of early 
life, really occasions most enjoyment or most regret. Renew- 
ing our acquaintance with well-known but long-separated ob- 
jects, revives, it is true, the recollection of former pleasures, 



SALMAGUNDI 199 

and touches the tenderest feelings of the heart ; like the flavour 
of a delicious beverage will remain upon the palate long after 
©he cup has parted from the lips. But on the other hand, my 
friend, these same objects are too apt to awaken us to a keener 
recollection of what we were, when they erst delighted us ; to 
provoke a mortifying and melancholy contrast with what we 
are at present. They act, in a manner, as milestones of exist- 
ence, showing us how far we have travelled in the journey of 
life ; — how much of our weary but fascinating pilgrimage is 
accomplished. I look round me, and my eye fondly recognizes 
the fields I once sported over, the river in which I once swam, 
and the orchard I intrepidly robbed in the halcyon days of 
boyhood. The fields are still green, the river still rolls un- 
altered and undiminished, and the orchard is still flourishing 
and fruitful ; — it is I only am changed. The thoughtless flow 
of mad-cap spirits that nothing could depress;— the elasticity 
of nerve that enabled me to bound over the field, to stem the 
stream, and climb the tree;— the 'sunshine of the breast^ that 
beamed an illusive charm over every object, and created a 
paradise around me! — where are they?— the thievish lapse of 
years has stolen them away, and left in return nothing but 
gray hairs, and a repining spirit." My friend Launcelot con- 
cluded his harangue with a sigh, and as I saw he was still 
under the influence of a whole legion of the blues, and just on 
the point of sinking into one of his whimsical and unreason- 
able fits of melancholy abstraction, I proposed a walk ;— he con- 
sented, and slipping his left arm in mine, and waving in the 
other a gold-headed thorn cane, bequeathed him by his uncle 
John, we slowly rambled along the margin of the river. 

Langstafl:, though possessing great vivacity of temper, is 
most wofully subject to these " thick coming fancies:" and I 
do not know a man whose animal spirits do insult him with 
more jiltings, and coquetries, and slippery tricks. In these 
moods he is often visited by a w T him-wham which he indulges 
in common with the Cocklofts. It is that of looking back with 
regret, conjuring up the phantoms of good old times, and deck- 
ing them out in imaginary finery, with the spoils of his fancy ; 
like a good lady widow, regretting the loss of the • ' poor dear 
man;" for whom, while living, she cared not a rush. I have 
seen him and Pindar, and old Cockloft, amuse themselves over 
a bottle with their youthful days ; until by the time they had 
become what is termed merry, they were the most miserable 
beings in existence. In a similar humour was Launcelot at 



200 SALMAGUNDI 

present, and I knew the only way was to let hini moralize 
himself out of it. 

Our ramble was soon interrupted by the appearance of a 
personage of no little importance at Cockloft-hall;— for, to let 
my readers into a family secret, friend Christopher is notori- 
ously hen pecked by an old negro, who has whitened on the 
place; and is his master, almanac, and counsellor. My read- 
ers, if haply they have sojourned in the country, and become 
conversant in rural manners, must have observed, that there is 
scarce a little hamlet but has one of these old weather-beaten 
wiseacres of negroes, who ranks among the great characters of 
the place. He is always resorted to as an oracle to resolve any 
question about the weather, fishing, shooting, farming, and 
horse-doctoring : and on such occasions will slouch his remnant 
of a hat on one side, fold his arms, roll his white eyes, and 
examine the sky, with a look as knowing as Peter Pindar's 
magpie when peeping into a marrow-bone. Such a sage 
curmudgeon is Old Caesar, who acts as friend Cockloft's prime 
minister or grand vizier ; assumes, when abroad, his master's 
style and title ; to wit, squire Cockloft ; and is, in effect, abso- 
lute lord and ruler of the soil. 

As he passed us he pulled off his hat with an air of some- 
thing more than respect ; — it partook, I thought, of affection. 
" There, now, is another memento of the kind I have been 
noticing," said Launcelot; "Caesar was a bosom friend and 
chosen playmate of cousin Pindar and myself, when we were 
boys. Never were we so happy as when, stealing away on a 
holiday to the hall, we ranged about the fields with honest 
Caesar. He was particularly adroit in making our quail-traps 
and fishing-rods ; was always the ring-leader in all the schemes 
of frolicksome mischief perpetrated by the urchins of the 
neighbourhood ; considered himself on an equality with the 
best of us; and many a hard battle have I had with him, 
about a division of the spoils of an orchard, or the title to a 
bird's nest. Many a summer evening do I remember when 
huddled together on the steps of the hall door, Caesar, with his 
stories of ghosts, goblins, and witches, would put us all in a 
panic, and people every lane, and church-yard, and solitary 
wood, with imaginary beings. In process of time, he became 
the constant attendant and Man Friday of cousin Pindar, 
whenever he went a sparking among the rosy country girls 
of the neighbouring farms ; and brought up his rear at every 
rustic dance, when he would mingle in the sable . group that 



BALMAGUNDL 201 

always thronged the door of merriment ; and it was enough to 
put to the rout a host of splenetic imps to see his mouth grad- 
ually dilate from ear to ear, with pride and exultation, at see- 
ing how neatly master Pindar footed it over the floor. Caesar 
was likewise the chosen confidant and special agent of Pindar 
in all his love affairs, until, as his evil stars would have it, on 
being entrusted with the delivery of a poetic billetdoux to one 
of his patron's sweethearts, he took an unlucky notion to send 
it to his own sable dulcinea; who, not being able to read it, 
took it to her mistress ; — and so the whole affair was blown. 
Pindar was universally roasted, and Caesar discharged for 
ever from his confidence. 

"Poor Caesar! — he has now grown old, like his young 
masters, but he still remembers old times ; and will, now and 
then, remind me of them as he lights me to my room, and 

lingers a little while to bid me a good-night : believe me, my 

dear Evergreen, the. honest, simple old creature has a warm 
corner in my heart; — I don't see, for my part, why a body 
may not like a negro as well as a white man !" 

By the time these biographical anecdotes were ended we had 
reached the stable, into which we involuntarily strolled, and 
found Caesar busily employed in rubbing down the horses ; an 
office he would not entrust to any body else; having con- 
tracted an affection for every beast in the stable, from their 
being descendants of the old race of animals, his youthful con- 
temporaries. Caesar was very particular in giving us their 
pedigrees, together with a panegyric on the swiftness, bottom, 
blood, and spirit of their sires. Prom these he digressed into a 
variety of anecdotes, in which Launcelot bore a conspicuous 
part, and on which the old negro dwelt with all the garrulity 
of age. Honest Langstaff stood leaning with his arm over the 
back of his favourite steed, old Killdeer ; and I could perceive 
he listened to Caesar's simple details with that fond attention 
with which a feeling mind will hang over narratives of boyish 
days. His eyes sparkled with animation, a glow of youthful 
fire stole across his pale visage ; he nodded with smiling appro- 
bation at every sentence ; — chuckled at every exploit ; laughed 
heartily at the story of his once having smoked out a country 
singing-school with brimstone and assaf oetida ; — and slipping a 
piece of money into old Caesar's hand to buy himself a new 
tobacco-box, he seized me by the arm and hurried out of the 
stable brimf ull of good-nature. ■ ' 'Tis a pestilent old rogue for 
talking, my dear fellow," cried he, "but you must not find 



202 SALMAGUNDI. 

fault with him,— the creature means well." I knew at the 
very moment that he made this apology, honest CsBsar could 
not have given him half the satisfaction had he talked like a 
Cicero or a Solomon. 

Launcelot returned to the house with me in the best possible 
humour:— the whole family, who, in truth, love and honour 
him from their very souls, were delighted to see the sunbeams 
once more play in his countenance. Every one seemed to vie 
who should talk the most, tell the longest stories, and be most 
agreeable ; and Will Wizard, who had accompanied me in my 
visit, declared, as he lighted his segar, which had gone out 
forty times in the course of one of his oriental tales, — that he 
had not passed so pleasant an evening since the birth-nigho 
ball of the beauteous empress of Hayti. 



[The following essay was written by my friend Langstaff, in 
one of the paroxysms of his splenetic complaint; and, for 
aught I know, may have been effectual in restoring him to 
good humour. — A mental discharge of the kind has a remark- 
able tendency toward sweetening the temper,— and Launcelot 
is, at this moment, one of the best-natured men in existence. 

A. Evergreen.] 



ON GREATNESS. 

BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

We have more than once, in the course of our work, been 
most jocosely familiar with great personages; and, in truth, 
treated them with as little ceremony, respect, and considera- 
tion, as if they had been our most particular friends. Now, 
we would not suffer the mortification of having our readers 
even suspect us of an intimacy of the kind; assuring them 
we are extremely choice in our intimates, and uncommonly 
circumspect in avoiding connections with all doubtful char- 
acters; particularly pimps, bailiffs, lottery-brokers, chevaliers 
of industry, and great men. The world, in general, is pretty 
well aware of what is to be understood bv the former classes 



SALMAGUNDI. 203 

of delinquents; but as the latter has never, I believe, been 
specifically defined; and as we are determined to instruct 
our readers to the extent of our abilities, and their limited 
comprehension, it may not be amiss here to let them know 
what we understand by a great man. 

First, therefore, let us— editors and kings are always plural 
—premise, that there are two kinds of greatness, — one con- 
ferred by heaven— the exalted nobility of the soul ; — the other, 
a spurious distinction, engendered by the mob and lavished 
upon its favourites. The former of these distinctions we have 
always contemplated with reverence ; the latter, we will take 
this opportunity to strip naked before our unenlightened read- 
ers ; so that if by chance any of them are held in ignominious 
thraldrom by this base circulation of false coin, they 'may 
forthwith emancipate themselves from such inglorious delu- 
sion- 
It is a fictitious value given to individuals by public caprice, 
as bankers give an impression to a worthless slip of paper ; 
thereby gaining it a currency for infinitely more than its 
intrinsic value. Every nation has its peculiar coin, and 
peculiar great men; neither of which will, for the most part, 
pass current out of the country where they are stamped. 
Your true mob-created great man, is like a note of one of the 
little New-England banks, and his value depreciates in propor- 
tion to the distance from home. In England a great man is he 
who has most ribands and gew-gaws on his coat, most horses 
to his carriage, most slaves in his retinue, or most toad-eaters 
at his table ; in Fmnce, he who can most dexterously flourish 

his heels above his head Duport is most incontestably the 

greatest man in France! — when the emperor is absent. The 
greatest man in China is he who can trace his ancestry up to 
the moon ; and in this country, our great men may generally 
hunt down their pedigree until it burrows in the dirt like a 
rabbit. To be concise ; our great men are those who are most 
expert at crawling on all fours, and have the happiest facility 
in dragging and winding themselves along in the dirt like very 
reptiles. This may seem a paradox to many of my readers, 
who, with great good-nature be it hinted, are too stupid to 
look beyond the mere surface of our invaluable writings; 
and often pass over the knowing allusion, and poignant mean- 
ing, that is slily couching beneath. It is for the benefit cf 
such helpless ignorants, who have no other creed but the 
opinion of the mob, that I shall trace — as far as it is possible 



204 8 ALMA O UNDI. 

to follow him in his progress from insignificance — the rise, 
progress, and completion of a little great man. 

In a logocraey, to use the sage Mustapha's phrase, it m hot 
absolutely necessary to the formation of a great man that he 
should be either wise or valiant, upright or honourable. On 
the contrary, daily experience shows that these qualities 
rather impede his preferment ; inasmuch as they are prone to 
render him too inflexibly erect, and are directly at variance 
with that willowy suppleness which enables a man to wind 
and twist through all the nooks and turns and dark winding 
passages that lead to greatness. The grand requisite for 
climbing the rugged hill of popularity, — the summit of which 
is the seat of power,— is to be useful. And here once more, for 
the sake of our readers, who are, of course, not so wise as our- 
selves, I must explain what we understand by usefulness. 
The horse, in his native state, is wild, swift, impetuous, full of 
majesty, and of a most generous spirit. It is then the animal 
is ncble, exalted, and useless. — But entrap him, manacle him, 
cudgel him, break down his lofty spirit, put the curb into his 
mouth, the load upon his back, and reduce him into servile 
obedience to the bridle and the lash, and it is then he becomes 
useful. Your jackass is one of the most useful animals in 
existence. If my readers do not now understand what I mean 
by usefulness, I give them all up for most absolute nincoms. 

To rise in this country, a man must first descend. The 
aspiring politician may be compared to that indefatigable 
insect called the tumbler; pronounced by a distinguished per- 
sonage to be the only industrious animal in Virginia, which 
buries itself in filth, and works ignobly in the dirt, until it 
forms a little ball, which it rolls laboriously along, like 
Diogenes in his tub; sometimes head, sometimes tail foremost, 
pilfering from every rut and mud-hole, and increasing its ball 
of greatness by the contributions of the kennel. Just so the 
candidate for greatness ;— he plunges into that mass of ob- 
scenity, the mob; labours in dirt and oblivion, and makes 
unto himself the rudiments of a popular name from the ad- 
miration and praises of rogues, ignoramuses, and blackguards. 
His name once started, onward he goes struggling, and puffing, 
and pushing it before Mm; collecting new tributes from the 
dregs and offals of the land, as he proceeds, until having 
gathered together a mighty mass of popularity, he mounts it 
in triumph; is hoisted into office, and becomes a great man, 
arvd a ruler in the land ;— all this will be clearly illustrated by 



SALMAGUNDI. 205 

a sketch of a worthy of the kind, who sprung up under my 
eye, and was hatched from pollution by the broad rays of 
popularity, which, like the sun, can ' ' breed maggots in a dead 
dog." 

Timothy Dabble was a young man of very promising 
talents ; for he wrote a fair hand, and had thrice won the silver 
medal at a country academy ;— he was also an orator, for he 
talked with emphatic volubility, and could argue a full hour, 
without taking either side, or advancing a single opinion ; — he 
had still further requisites for eloquence ; — for he made very 
handsome gestures, had dimples in his cheeks when he smiled,, 
and enunciated most harmoniously through his nose. In 
short, nature had certainly marked him out for a great man; 
for though he was not tall, yet he added at least half an' inch 
to his stature hy elevating his head, and assumed an amazing 
expression of dignity by turning up his nose and curling his 
nostrils in a style of conscious superiority. Convinced by 
these unequivocal appearances, Dabble's friends, in full caucus, 
one and all, declared that he was undoubtedly born to be a 
great man ; and it would be his own fault if he were not one. 
Dabble was tickled with an opinion which coincided so happily 
with his own,— for vanity, in a confidential whisper, had given 
him the like intimation ; — and he reverenced the judgment of 
his friends because they thought so highly of himself ; — accord- 
ingly he set out with a determination to become a great man, 
and to start in the scrub-race for honour and renown. How 
to attain the desired prizes was, however, the question. He 
knew by a kind of instinctive feeling, which seems peculiar to 
grovelling minds, that honour, and its better part — profit, 
would never seek him out ; that they would never knock at 
his door and crave admittance ; but must be courted, and toiled 
after, and earned. He therefore strutted forth into the high- 
ways, the market-places, and the assemblies of the people; 
ranted like a true cockerel orator about virtue, and patriotism, 
and liberty, and equality, and himself. Full many a political 
wind-mill did he battle with ; and full many a time did he talk 
himself out of breath, and his hearers out of then* patience. 
But Dabble found, to his vast astonishment, that there was not 
a notorious political pimp at a ward meeting but could out- 
talk him ; and what was still more mortifying, there was not a 
notorious political pimp but was more noticed and caressed 
than himself. The reason was simple enough; while he 
harangued about principles, the others ranted about men; 



206 SALMAGUNDI. 

where he reprobated a political error, they blasted a political 
character ; — they were consequently, the most useful ; for the 
great object of our political disputes is not who shall have the 
honor of emancipating the community from the leading strings 
of delusion, but who shall have the profit of holding the 
strings and leading the community by the nose. 

Dabble was likewise very loud in his professions of integ- 
rity, incorruptibility, and disinterestedness ; words which, from 
being filtered and refined through newspapers and election 
handbills, have lost their original signification; and in the 
political dictionary are synonymous with empty pockets, 
itching palms, and interested ambition. He, in addition to 
all this, declared that he would support none but honest men ; 
—but unluckily as but few of these offered themselves to be 
supported, Babble's services w-ere seldom required. He pledged 
himself never to engage in party schemes, or party politics, 
but to stand up solely for the broad interests of Ms country ;-- 
so he stood alone; and what is the same thing, he stood still; 
for, in this country, he who does not side with either party, is 
like a body in a vacuum between two planets, and must for ever 
remain motionless. 

Dabble was immeasurably surprised that a man so honest, so 
disinterested, and so sagacious withal, — and one too who had 
the good of his country so much at heart, should thus remain 
unnoticed and unapplauded. A little worldly advice, whis- 
pered in his ear by a shrewd old politician, at once explained 
the whole mystery. "He who would become great," said he, 
4 \ must serve an apprenticeship to greatness ; and rise by regular 
gradation, like the master of a vessel, who commences by being 
scrub and cabin-boy. He must fag in the train of great men, 
echo all their sentiments, become their toad-eater and parasite ; 
— laugh at all their jokes, and above all, endeavour to make 
them laugh; if you only now and then make a man laugh, 
your fortune is made. Look but about you, youngster, and 
you will not see a single little great man of the day, but has 
his miserable herd of retainers, who yelp at his heels, come at 
his whistle, worry whoever he points his finger at, and think 
themselves fully rewarded by sometimes snapping up a crumb 
that falls from the great man's table. Talk of patriotism and 
virtue, and incorruptibility! — tut, man! they are the very 
qualities that scare munificence, and keep patronage at a dic- 
tance. You might as well attempt to entice crows with red 
^ags and gunpowder, Lay all these scarecrow virtues aside, 



SALMAGUNDI. 20? 

and let this be your maxim, that a candidate for political 
eminence is like a dried herring ; he never becomes luminous 
until he is corrupt." 

Dabble caught with hungry avidity these congenial doc- 
trines, and turned into his pre-destined channel of action with 
the force and rapidity of a stream which has for a while been 
restrained from its natural course. He became what nature 
had fitted hini to be ; — his . tone softened down from arrogant 
self-sufficiency, to the whine of fawning solicitation. He min- 
gled in the caucuses of the sovereign people ; adapted his dress 
to a similitude of dirty raggedness ; argued most logically with 
those who were of his own opinion ; and slandered, with all the 
malice of impotence, exalted characters whose orbit he de- 
spaired ever to approach :— just as that scoundrel midnight 
thief, the owl, hoots at the blessed light of the sun, whose 
glorious lustre he dares never contemplate. He likewise ap- 
plied himself to discharging, faithfully, the honourable duties 
of a partizan;— he poached, about for private slanders and 
ribald anecdotes;— he folded handbills ;— he even wrote one or 
two himself, which he carried about in his pocket and read to 
every body ; — he became a secretary at ward-meetings, set his 
hand to divers resolutions of patriotic import, and even once 
went so far as to make a speech, in which he proved that patri- 
otism was a virtue ; — the reigning bashaw a great man ;— that 
this was a free country, and he himself an arrant and incon- 
testable buzzard ! 

Dabble was now very frequent and devout in his visits to 
those temples of politics, popularity, and smoke, the ward 
porter-houses ; those true dens of equality where all ranks, ages, 
and talents are brought down to the dead level of rude famil- 
iarity. 'Twas here his talents expanded, and his genius swelled 
up into its proper size ; like the loathsome toad, which, shrink- 
ing from balmy airs and jocund sunshine, finds his congenial 
home in caves and dungeons, and there nourishes his venom, 
and bloats his deformity. 'Twas here he revelled with the 
swinish multitude in their debauches on patriotism and porter; 
arid it became an even chance whether Dabble would turn out 
a grea.t man or a great drunkard. But Dabble in all this kept 
steadily in his eye the only deity he ever worshipped — his in- 
terest. Having by this familiarity ingratiated himself with the 
mob, he became wonderfully potent and industrious at elec- 
tions ; knew all the dens and cellars of profligacy and intem- 
perance; brought more negroes to the polls, and knew to a 



208 SALMAGUNDI 

greater certainty where votes could be bought for beer, thai} 
any of his contemporaries. His exertions in the cause, his 
persevering industry, his degrading compliance, his unresist- 
ing humility, his steadfast dependence, at length caught the 
attention of one of the leaders of the party ; who was pleased 
to observe that Dabble was a very useful fellow, who would go 
all lengths. From that moment his fortune was made;— he 
was hand and glove with orators and slang- whangers ; basked 
in the sunshine of great men's smiles, and had the honour, sun- 
dry times, of shaking hands with dignitaries, and drinking out 
of the same pot with them at a porter-house ! ! 

I will not fatigue myself with tracing this caterpillar in his 
slimy progress from worm to butterfly : suffice it that Dabble 
bowed and bowed, and fawned, and sneaked, and smirked, 
and libelled, until one would have thought perseverance itself 
would have settled down into despair. There was no knowing 
how long he might have lingered at a distance from his hopes, 
had he not luckily got tarred and feathered for some of his 
electioneering manoeuvres; —this was the making of him !— Let 
not my readers stare ;— tarring and feathering here is equal to 
pillory and cropped ears in English ; and either of these kinds 
of martyrdom will ensure a patriot the sympathy and support 
of his faction. His partizans, for even he had his partizans, . 
took his case into consideration ; —he had been kicked and 
cuffed, and disgraced, and dishonoured in the cause;— he had 
licked the dust at the feet of the mob;— he was a faithful 
drudge, slow to anger, of invincible patience, of incessant 
assiduity;— a thorough-going tool, who could be curbed, and 
spurred, and directed at pleasure ;— in short, he had all the im- 
portant qualifications for a little great man, and he was ac- 
cordingly ushered into office amid the acclamations of the 
party. The leading men complimented his usefulness, the 
multitude his republican simplicity, and the slang-whangers 
vouched for his patriotism. Since his elevation he has dis- 
covered indubitable signs of having been destined for a great 
man. His nose has acquired an additional elevation of several 
degrees, so that now he appears to have bidden adieu to this 
world and to have set his thoughts altogether on things above; 
and he has swelled and inflated himself to such a degree, that 
his friends are under apprehensions that he will one day or 
other explode and blow up like a torpedo. 



SALMA G UNDL 209 



NO. XVI.-THURSDAY, OCT. 15, 1807. 



STYLE, AT BALLSTON. 

♦ BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

Notwithstanding Evergreen has never been abroad, nor had 
his understanding enlightened, or his views enlarged by that 
marvellous sharpener of the wits, a salt-water voyage ; yet he 
is tolerably shrewd, and correct, in the limited sphere of his 
observations; and now and then astounds me with a right 
pithy remark, which would do no discredit even to a man who 
had made the grand tour. 

In several late conversations at Cockloft-Hall, he has amused 
us exceedingly by detailing sundry particulars concerning that 
notorious slaughter-house of time, Ballston Springs ; where he 
spent a considerable part of the last summer. The following 
is a summary of his observations. 

Pleasure has passed through a variety of significations at 
Ballston. It originally meant nothing more than a relief from 
pain and sickness; and the patient who had journeyed many 
a weary mile to the Springs, with a heavy heart and emaciated 
form, called it pleasure when he threw by his crutches, and 
danced away from them with renovated spirits and limbs 
jocund with vigour. In process of time pleasure underwent a 
refinement, and appeared in the likeness of a sober, unceremo- 
nious country-dance, to the flute of an amateur or the three- 
stringed fiddle of an itinerant country musician. — Still every 
thing bespoke that happy holiday which the spirits ever enjoy, 
when emancipated from the shackles of formality, ceremony, 
and modern politeness : things went on cheerily, and Ballston 
was pronounced a charming, hum-drum, careless place of re- 
sort, where every one was at his ease, and might follow unmo- 
lested the bent of his humour — provided his wife was not there ; 



210 SALMAGUNDI. 

— when, lo ! all on a sudden Style made its baneful appearance 
in the semblance of a gig and tandem, a pair of leather breeches, 
a liveried footman, and a cockney ! — since that fatal era pleas- 
ure has taken an entire new signification, and at present means 
nothing but style. 

The worthy, fashionable, dashing, good-for-nothing people of 
every state, who had rather suffer the martyrdom of a crowd 
than endure the monotony of their own homes and the stupid 
company of their own thoughts, flock to the Springs ; not to enjoy 
the pleasures of society or benefit by the qualities of the waters, 
but to exhibit their equipages and wardrobes, and to excite 
the admiration, or what is much more satisfactory, the envy of 
their fashionable competitors. This, of course, awakens a spirit 
of noble emulation between the eastern, middle, and southern 
states ; and every lady hereupon finding herself charged in a 
manner with the whole weight of her country's dignity and 
style, dresses and dashes and sparkles without mercy at her 
competitors from other parts of the Union. This kind of rival- 
ship naturally requires a vast deal of preparation and pro- 
digious quantities of supplies. A sober citizen's wife will break 
half a dozen milliners' shops, and sometimes starve her family 
a whole season, to enable herself to make the Springs campaign 
in style. — She repairs to the seat of war with a mighty force of 
trunks and bandboxes, like so many ammunition chests, filled 
with caps, hats, gowns, ribands, shawls, and all the various 
artillery of fashionable warfare. The lady of a southern planter 
will lay out the whole annual produce of a rice plantation in 
silver and gold muslins, lace veils, and new liveries ; carry a 
hogshead of tobacco on her head, and trail a bale of sea-island 
cotton at her heels, while a lady of Boston or Salem will wrap 
herself up in the net proceeds of a cargo of whale-oil, and tie on 
her hat with a quintal of codfish. 

The planters' ladies, however, have generally the advantage 
in this contest ; for, as it is an incontestable fact, that whoever 
comes from the West or East Indies, or Georgia, -or the Caro- 
linas, or, in fact, any warm climate, is immensely rich, it can- 
not be expected that a simple cit of the north can cope with 
them in style. The planter, therefore, who drives four horses 
abroad and a thousand negroes at home, and who flourishes up 
to the Springs, followed by half a score of black-a-moors in 
gorgeous liberies, is unquestionably superior to the northern 
merchant, who plods on in a carriage and pair; which, being 
nothing more than is quite necessary, has no claim whatever 



SALMAGUNDI. o-,, 

to style He however, has his consolation in feeling superioi 
to the honest cit who dashes about in a simple gig --he in re 
turn sneers at the country squire, who jogs along with his 
scrubby, long-eared pony and saddle-bags ; and the squire bv 
way of talang satisfaction, would make no scruple to run over 
the unobtrusive pedestrian, were it not that the last being the 
most independent of the whole, might chance to break his head 
by way of retort. 

The great misfortune is, that this style is supported at such 
an expense as sometimes to encroach on the rights and privi- 
leges of the pocket, and occasion very awkward embarrass- 
ments to the tyro of fashion. Among a number of instances 
Evergreen mentions the fate of a dashing blade from the. south' 
who made his entree with a tandem and two out-riders, by the 
aid of which he attracted the attention of all the ladies and 
caused a coolness between several young couples, who, it was 
thought before his arrival, had a considerable kindness for 
each other In the course of a fortnight his tandem disap- 
peared !-the class of good folk who seem to have nothing to do 

m i^i£? ♦ \ WJ lnt ° ° ther Pe ° ple ' s affairs > be S an to .stare ! 
-m a little time longer an outrider was missing !-this increased 
the alarm, and it was consequently whispered that he had eaten 
the horses and drank the negro.-N. B. Southern gentlemen" 
are very apt to do this on an emergency. -Serious IppreW 
sions were entertained about the fate of the remaining servant 
which were soon verified by his actually vanishing! and in 
one little month," the dashing Carolinian modestly took Ms 
tlZ^ h \ tl f sta ge-coach!-universally regretted bv the 
load of style. generous1 ^ released ^m from his cumbrous 

acc^uiitroT', 111 ^ C0UrSe ,° f WS detai1 ' gave ver ^ ^lancholy 
accounts of an alarmmg famine which raged with great vi<> 

SeiiS^^r Whether tMs was °^ to '*£*£& 

at S?, ^ c r pany > or the scarci ^ ^ch prevailed 

that he wifn 6 n °, t , Seem lnClined t0 Sa ^ but ^ declares 

owl™ J? f f. Sevei ; aI da ^ to imminent danger of starvation, 

dS table H g 3 F? t0 ° dflatMy iU MS tendance at the 
ciinnei -table. He relates a number of "moving accidents" 

^Ise-ttT 7 ° f ^ P f te C ° mpany * their "eat to S g n e a 
alwavs tll\S lrmei \° n WhlCh ° CCasi0n a kind ef scrub race 
plS ^ was show" 6 ' W ^ mn a VaSt deal ° f keying and unfair 
altered ' *?* £ Vamty ° f s <l uab Mes and unseemly 

altercations occurred. But when arrived at the scene of action. 



212 SALMAGUNDI. 

it was truly an awful sight to behold the confusion, and to hear 
the tumultuous uproar of voices crying, some for one thing 
and some for another, to the tuneful accompaniment of knives 
and forks, rattling with all the energy of hungry impatience. 
— The feast of the Centaurs and the Lapithse was nothing 
when compared with a dinner at the great house. At one time 
an old gentleman, whose natural irascibility was a little sharp- 
ened by the gout, had scalded his throat by gobbling down a 
bowl of hot soup in a vast hurry, in order to secure the first 
fruits of a roasted partridge before it was snapped up by some 
hungry rival; when, just as he was whetting his knife and 
fork, preparatory for a descent on the promised land, he had 
the mortification to see it transferred bodily to the plate of a 
squeamish little damsel who was taking the waters for debility 
and loss of appetite. This was too much for the patience of 
old crusty ; he lodged his fork into the partridge, whipt it into 
his dish, and cutting off . a wing of it, — "There, Miss, there's 
more than you can eat. — Oons i what should such a little chalky- 
faced puppet as you do with a whole partridge !" — At another 
time a mighty, sweet-disposed old dowager, who loomed most 
magnificently at the table, had a sauce-boat launched upon the 
capacious lap of a silver-sprigged muslin gown by the ma- 
noevring of a little politic Frenchman, who was dexterously at- 
tempting to make a lodgment under the covered way of a 
chicken-py e ; — human nature could not bear it! — the lady 
bounced round, and, with one box on the ear, drove the luck- 
less wight to utter annihilation. 

But these little cross accidents are amply compensated by 
the great variety of amusements which abound at this charm- 
ing resort of beauty and fashion. In the morning the com- 
pany, each like a jolly Bacchanalian with glass in hand, sally 
forth to the Springs: where the gentlemen, who wish to make 
themselves agreeable, have an opportunity of dipping them 
selves into the good opinion of the ladies : and it is truly de- 
lectable to see with what grace and adroitness they perform 
this ingratiating feat. Anthony says that it is peculiarly 
amazing to behold the quantity of water the ladies drink on 
this occasion for the purpose of getting an appetite for break- 
fast. He assures me he has been present whefi a young lady 
of unparalleled delicacy tossed off in the space of a minute or 
two one and twenty tumblers and a wine-glass full. On my 
asking Anthony whether the solicitude of the by-standers was 
not greatly awakened as to what might be the effects of this 



SALMAGUNDI. 213 

debauch, he replied that the ladies at Ballston had become 
such great sticklers for the doctrine of evaporation, that no 
gentleman ever ventured to remonstrate against this excessive 
drinking for fear of bringing his philosophy into contempt. 
The most notorious water-drinkers in particular were continu- 
ally holding forth on the surprising aptitude with which the 
Ballston waters evaporated ; and several gentlemen, who had 
the hardihood to question this female philosophy, were held in 
high displeasure. 

After breakfast every one chooses his amusement ;— some 
take a ride into the pine woods and enjoy the varied and ro- 
mantic scenery of burnt trees, post and rail fences, pine flats, 
potato patches, and log huts; — others scramble up the sur- 
rounding sand-hills, that look like the abodes of a gigantic race 
of ants;— take a peep at the other sand-hills beyond them; — 
and then — come down again: others, who are romantic, and 
sundry young ladies insist upon being so whenever they visit 
the Springs, or go any where into the country, stroll along the 
borders of a little swampy brook that drags itself along like 
an Alexandrine ; and that so lazily as not to ma£e a single 
murmur; — watching the little tadpoles as they frolic, right flip- 
pantly, in the muddy stream ; and listening to the inspiring 
melody of the harmonious frogs that croak upon its borders. 
Some play at billiards, some play at the fiddle, and some — play 
the fool; — the latter being the most prevalent amusement at 
Ballston. 

These, together with abundance of dancing, and a prodigious 
deal of sleeping of afternoons, make up the variety of pleasures 
at the Springs; — a delicious life of alternate lassitude and 
fatigue; of laborious dissipation and listless idleness; of sleep- 
less nights, and days spent in that dozing insensibility which 
ever succeeds them. Now and then, indeed, the influenza, the 
f ever-and-ague, or some such pale-faced intruder, may happen 
to throw a momentary damp on the general felicity ; but on 
the whole, Evergreen declares that Ballston wants only six 
things, to wit: good air, good wine, good living, good beds, 
good company, and good humour, to be the most enchanting 

place in the world ; excepting Botany-bay, Musquito Cove a 

Dismal Swamp, and the Black-hole at Calcutta. 



214 SALMAGUNDI. 

The following letter from the sage Mustapha has cost us 
more trouble to decypher and render into tolerable English 
than any hitherto published. It was full of blots and erasures, 
particularly the latter part, which we have no doubt was 
penned in a moment of great wrath and indignation. Mus- 
tapha has often a rambling mode cf writing, and his thoughts 
cake such unaccountable turns that it is difficult to tell one 
moment where he will lead you the next. This is particularly 
obvious in the commencement of his letters, which seldoin 
bear much analogy to the subsequent parts ;— he sets off witk 
a flourish, like a dramatic hero, — assumes an air of great pom- 
posity, and struts up to his subject mounted most loftily on 
ttilts. L. Langstaff. 



LETTEE FROM MUSTAPHA BUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, 

*?0 ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL SLAVE-DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESa 
THE BASHAW OF TRIPOLI. 

Among the variety of principles by which mankind are 
actuated, there is one, my dear Asem, which I scarcely know 
whether to consider as springing from grandeur and nobility 
of mind, or from a refined species of vanity and egotism. It is 
that singular, although almost universal, desire of living in the 
memory of posterity ; of occupying a share of the world's at- 
tention when we shall long since have ceased to be susceptible 
either of its praise or censure. Most of the passions of the 
mind are bounded by the grave ; — sometimes, indeed, an anx- 
ious hope or trembling fear will venture beyond the clouds 
and darkness that rest upon our mortal horizon, and expatiate 
in boundless futurity ; but it is only this active love of fame 
which steadily contemplates its fruition in the applause or 
gratitude of future ages. Indignant at the narrow limits which 
circumscribe existence, ambition is for ever struggling to soar 
beyond them ; — to triumph over space and time, and to bear a 
name, at least, above the inevitable oblivion in which every 
thing else that concerns us must be involved. It is this, my 
friend, which prompts the patriot to his most heroic achieve- 
ments ; which inspires the sublimest strains of the poet, and 
breathes ethereai fire into the productions of the painter and 
the statuary. 



SALMAGUNDI. 215 

For this the monarch rears the lofty column; the laurelled 
conqueror claims the triumphal arch ; while the obscure indi- 
vidual, who moved in an humbler sphere, asks but a plain 
and simple stone to mark his grave and bear to tke next gen- 
eration this important truth, that he was born, died — and was 
buried. It was this passion which once erected the vast Nu^ 
midian piles, whose ruins we have so often regarded with won- 
der, as the shades of evening — fit emblems of oblivion— gradu- 
ally stole over and enveloped them in darkness. — It was this 
which gave being to those sublime monuments of Saracen mag- 
nificence, which nod in mouldering desolation, as the blast 

sweeps over our deserted plains. How futile are all our 

efforts to evade the obliterating hand of time ! As I traversed 
the dreary wastes of Egypt, on my journey to Grand Cairo, I 
stepped my camel for a while and contemplated, in awful ad- 
miration, the stupendous pyramids.— An appalling silence pre- 
vailed around; such as reigns in the wilderness when the 
tempest is hushed and the beasts of prey have retired to their 
dens. The myriads that had once been employed in rearing 
these lofty mementoes of human vanity, whose busy hum once 
enlivened the solitude of the desert,— had all been swept from, 
the earth by the irresistible arm of death ;— all were mingled 
with their native dust ; — all were forgotten ! Even the mighty 
names which these sepulchres were designed to perpetuate had 
iong since faded from remembrance; history and tradition 
Afforded but vague conjectures, and the pyramids imparted a 

humiliating lesson to the candidate for immortality. Alas! 

s4as! said I to myself, how mutable are the foundations on 
which our proudest hopes of future fame are reposed! He who 
imagines he has secured to himself the meed of deathless re- 
nown, indulges in deluding visions, which only bespeak the 
canity of the dreamer. The storied obelisk, — the triumphal 
arch, — the swelling dome, shall crumble into dust, and the 
names they would preserve from oblivion shall often pass away 
before their own duration is accomplished. 

Yet this passion for fame, however ridiculous in the eye of 
the philosopher, deserves respect and consideration, from hav- 
ing been the source of so many illustrious actions ; and hence 
it has been the practice in all enlightened governments to per- 
petuate, by monuments, the memory of great men, as a tesM- 
mony of respect for the illustrious dead, and to awaken in the 
bosoms of posterity an emulation to merit the same honourable 
distinction. The people of the American logocracy, who pride 






216 SALMAGUNDI 

themselves upon improving on every precept or example of 
ancient or modern governments, have discovered a new mode 
of exciting this love of glory ; a mode by which they do honour 
to their great men, even in their lifetime ! 

Thou must have observed by this time that they manage 
every thing in a manner peculiar to themselves ; and doubtless 
in the best possible manner, seeing they have denominated 
themselves "the most enlightened people under the sun." 
Thou wilt therefore, perhaps, be curious to know how they 
contrive tc honour the name of a living patriot, and what un- 
heard-of monument they erect in memory of his achievements. 
— By. the fiery beard of the mighty Barbarossa, but I can 
scarcely preserve the sobriety of a true disciple of Mahomet 
while I tell thee ! — wilt thou not smile, O Mussulman of invin- 
cible gravity, to learn that they honour their great men by 
eating, and that the only trophy erected to their exploits is a 
public dinner! But, trust me, Asem, even in this measure, 
whimsical as it may seem, the philosophic and considerate 
spirit of this people is admirably displayed. Wisely conclud- 
ing that when the hero is dead he becomes insensible to the 
voice of fame, the song of adulation, or the splendid trophy, 
they have determined that he shall enjoy his quantum of celeb- 
rity while living, and revel in the full enjoyment^ of a nine- 
days' immortality. The barbarous nations of antiquity im- 
molated human victims to the memory of their lamented dead, 
but the enlightened Americans offer up whole, hecatombs of 
geese and calves, and oceans of wine, in honour of the illustri- 
ous living; and the patriot has the felicity of hearing from 
every quarter the vast exploits in gluttony and revelling that 
have been celebrated to the glory of his name. 

No sooner does a citizen signalize himself in a conspicuous 
manner in the service of his country, than all the gormandi- 
zers assemble and discharge the national debt of gratitude — 
by giving him a dinner;— not that he really receives all *h^ 
luxuries provided on this occasion; — no, my friend, it is Den 
chances to one that the great man does not taste a morsel trom 
the table, and is, perhaps, five hundred miles distant ; and, to 
let thee into a melancholy fact, a patriot under this economic 
government, may be often in want of a dinner, while dozens 
are devoured in his praise. Neither are these repasts spread 
out for the hungry and necessitous, who might otherwise be 
filled with food and gladness, and inspired to shout forth the 
illustrious name, which had been the means of their enjoy- 



SALMAGUNDI. 217 

ment ; — far from this, Asem ; it is the rich only who indulge 
in the banquet ; — those who pay for the dainties are alone 
privileged to enjoy them; so that, while opening their purses 
in honour of the patriot, they at the same time fulfil a great 
maxim, which in this country comprehends all the rules of 
prudence, and all the duties a man owes to himself ;— namely^ 
getting the worth of their money. 

In process of time this mode of testifying public applause 
has been found so marvellously agreeable, that they extend it 
to events as well as characters, and eat in triumph at the news 
of a treaty,— at the anniversary of any grand national era, or 
at the gaining of that splendid victory of the tongue — an 
election.— Nay, so far do they carry it, that certain days are 
set apart when the guzzlers, the gormandizers, and the wine- 
bibbers meet together to celebrate a grand indigestion, in 
memory of some great event ; and every man in the zeal of 
patriotism gets devoutly drunk — "as the act directs."" Tlien, 
my friend, mayest thou behold the sublime spectacle of love 
of country, elevating itself from a sentiment into an appetite, 
whetted to the quick with the cheering prospect of tables 
loaded with the fat things of the land. On this occasion every 
man is anxious to fall to work, cram himself in honour of the 
day, and risk a surfeit in the glorious cause. Some, I have 
been told, actually fast for four and twenty hours preceding, 
that they may be enabled to do greater honour to the feast ; 
and certainly, if eating and drinking are patriotic rites, he who 
eats and drinks most, and proves himself the greatest glutton, 
is, undoubtedly, the most distinguished patriot. Such, at any 
rate, seems to be the opinion here, and they act up to it so 
rigidly, that by the time it is dark, every kennel in the neigh- 
bourhood teams with illustrious members of the sovereign 
people, wallowing in their congenial element of mud and mire. 

These patriotic feasts, or rather national monuments, are 
patronized and promoted by certain inferior cadis, called Al- 
dermen, who are commonly complimented with their direc- 
tion. These dignitaries, as far as I can learn, are generally 
appointed on account of their great talents for eating, a quali- 
fication peculiarly necessary in the discharge of their official 
duties. They hold frequent meetings at taverns and hotels, 
where they enter into solemn consultations for the benefit of 
lobsters and turtles ; — establish wholesome regulations for the 
safety and preservation of fish and wild -fowl;— appoint the 
seasons most proper for eating oysters ;— inquire into the 



218 SALMAGUNDI. 

economy of taverns, the characters of publicans, and the 
abilities of their cooks ; and discuss, most learnedly, the merits 
of a bowl of soup, a chicken-py e, or a haunch of venison : in a 
word, the alderman has absolute control in all matters of eat- 
ing, and superintends the whole police — of the belly. Having, 
in the prosecution of their important office, signalized them- 
selves at so many public festivals ; having gorged so often on 
patriotism and pudding, and entombed so many great names 
in their extensive maws, thou wilt easily conceive that they 
wax portly apace, that they fatten on the fame of mighty 
men, and that their rotundity, like the rivers, the lakes, and 
the mountains of their country, must be on a great scale ! Even, 
so, my friend ; and when I sometimes see a portly alderman, 
puffing along, and swelling as if he had the world under his 
waistcoat, I cannot help looking upon him as a walking monu- 
ment, and am often ready to exclaim — " Tell me, thou majes 
tic mortal, thou breathing catacomb! — to what illustrious 
character, what mighty event, does that capacious carcass of 
thine bear testimony?" 

But though the enlightened citizens of this logocracy eat in 
honour of their friends, yet they drink destruction to their 
enemies. — Yea, Asem, wo unto those who are doomed to 
undergo the public vengeance, at a public dinner. No sooner 
are the viands removed, than they prepare for merciless and 
exterminating hostilities. They drink the intoxicating juice 
of the grape, out of little glass cups, and over each draught 
oronounce a short sentence or prayer;— not such a prayer as 
thy virtuous heart would dictate, thy pious lips give utterance 
to, my good Asem ; — not a tribute of thanks to all bountiful 
Allah, nor a humble supplication for his blessing on the 
draught ;— no, my friend, it is merely a toast, that is to say, a 
fulsome tribute of flattery to their demagogues; — a laboured 
sally of affected sentiment or national egotism; or, what is 
more despicable, a malediction on their enemies, an empty 
threat of vengeance, or a petition for their destruction; for 
toasts, thou must know, are another kind of missive weapon 
in a logocracy, and are levelled from afar, like the annoying 
arrows of the Tartars. 

Oh, Asem ! couldst thou but witness one of these patriotic, 
these monumental dinners; how furiously the flame of patriot- 
ism blazes forth;— how suddenly they vanquish armies, sub- 
jugate whole countries, and exterminate nations in a bumper, 
thou wouidst more than ever admire the force of that omnipo' 



SALMAGUNDI. 219 

tent weapon, the tongue. At these moments every coward 
becomes a hero, every ragamuffin an invincible warrior ; and 
the most zealous votaries of peace and quiet, forget, for a 
while, their cherished maxims, and join in the furious attack. 
Toast succeeds toast; — kings, emperors, bashaws, are like chaff 
before the tempest ; the inspired patriot vanquishes fleets with 
a single gun-boat, and swallows down navies at a draught, 
until, overpowered with victory and wine, he smks upon the 
field of battle— dead drunk in his country's cause. — Sword of 
the puissant KhalidI what a display of valour is here!— the 
sons of Afric are hardy, brave, and enterprising, but they can 
achieve nothing like this. 

Happy would it be if this mania for toasting extended no 
further than to the expression of national resentment. ' Though 
we might smile at the impotent vapouring and windy hyper- 
bole, by which it is distinguished, yet we would excuse it, as 
the unguarded overflowings of a heart glowing with national 
injuries, and indignant at the insults offered to its country. 
But alas, my friend, private resentment, individual hatred, 
and the illiberal spirit of party, are let loose on these festive 
occasions. Even the names of individuals, of unoffending 
fellow-citizens, are sometimes dragged forth to undergo the 
slanders and execrations of a distempered herd of revellers.*— 
Head of Mahomet ! how vindictive, how insatiably vindictive 
must be that spirit which can drug the mantling bowl with 
gall and bitterness, and indulge an angry passion in the 
moment of rejoicing!—" Wine," says their poet, "is like sun- 
shine to the heart, which under its generous influence expands 
the good- will, and becomes the very temple of philanthropy." 
— Strange, that in a temple consecrated to such a divinity, there 
should remain a secret corner, polluted by the lurkings of 
malice and revenge ; strange, that in the full flow of social en- 
joyment, these votaries of pleasure can turn aside to call down 
curses on the head of a fellow-creature. Despicable souls ! y^ 



NOTE BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

* It would seem that in this sentence, the Sage Mustapha had reference to a 
patriotic dinner, celebrated last fourth of July, by some gentlemen ot Baltimore, 
when they righteously drank perdition to an unoffending individual, and really 
thought "they had done the state some service.' 1 This amiable custom of " eating 
and drinking damnation" to others, is not confined to any party:— for a month or 
two after the fourth of July, the different newspapers file off their columns of 
patriotic toasts against each other, and take a pride in showing how brilliantly 
their partizans can blackguard public characters in their cups—" they do but jest- 
poison in jest,'' as Hamlet says. 







220 8 A LMA G UNDL 

are unworthy of being citizens of this "most enlightened 
country under the sun:"— rather herd with the murderous 
savages who prowl the mountains of Tibesti ; who stain their 
midnight orgies with the blood of the innocent wanderer, and 
drink their infernal potations from the skulls of the victims 
they have massacred. 

And yet, trust me, Asem, this spirit of vindictive cowardice 
is not owing to any inherent depravity of soul, for, on other 
occasions, I have had ample proof that this nation is mild and 
merciful, brave and magnanimous ;— neither is it owing to any 
defect in their political or religious precepts. The principles 
inculcated by their rulers, on all occasions, breathe a spirit of 
universal philanthropy ; and as to their religion, much as I am 
devoted to the Koran of our divine prophet, still I cannot but 
acknowledge with admiration the mild forbearance, the amia- 
ble benevolence, the sublime morality bequeathed them by the 
founder of their faith.— Thou rememberest the doctrines of the 
mild Nazarine, who preached peace and good-will to all man- 
kind; who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; who 
blessed those who cursed him, and prayed for those who de- 
spitef ully used and persecuted him ! What, then, can give rise 
to this uncharitable, this inhuman custom among the disciples 
of a master so gentle and forgiving?— It is that fiend politics, 
Asem — that baneful fiend, which bewildereth every brain, and 
poisons every social feeling; which intrudes itself at the fes- 
tive banquet, and, like the detestable harpy, pollutes the 
very viands of the table; which contaminates the refreshing 
draught while it is inhaled; which prompts the cowardly 
assassin to launch his poisoned arrows from behind the social 
board ; and which renders the bottle, that boasted promoter of 
good fellowship and hilarity, an infernal engine, charged with 
direful combustion. 

Oh, Asem! Asem! how does my heart sicken when I con- 
template these cowardly barbarities? Let me, therefore, if 
possible, withdraw my attention from them for ever. My 
feelings have borne me from my subject ; and from the monu- 
ments of ancient greatness, I have wandered to those of modern 
degradation. My warmest wishes remain with thee, thou 
most illustrious of slave-drivers ; may est thou ever be sensible 
of the mercies of our great prophet, who, in compassion to 
human imbecility, has prohibited his disciples from the use of 
the deluding beverage of the grape ; — that enemy to reason — 
that promoter of defamation — that auxiliary of politics. 

Ever th in p. Mttrt a ptt a. 



SALMAGUNDI. 221 



NO. XVII. -WEDNESDAY, NOV. 11, 1807. 



AUTUMNAL EEFLECTIONS. 

BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

When a man is quietly journeying downwards into the val- 
ley of the shadow of departed youth, and begins to contem- 
plate, in a shortened perspective, the end of his pilgrimage, he 
"becomes more solicitous than ever that the remainder of his 
wayfaring should be smooth and pleasant ; and the evening of 
his life, like the evening of a summer's day, fade away in mild 
uninterrupted serenity. If haply his heart has escaped unin- 
jured through the dangers of a seductive world, it may then 
administer to the purest of his felicities, and its chords vibrate 
more musically for the trials they have sustained ;— like the 
viol, which yields a melody sweet in proportion to its age. 

To a mind thus temperately harmonized, thus matured and 
mellowed by a long lapse of years, there is something truly 
congenial in the quiet enjoyment of our early autumn, amid 
the tranquillities of the country. There is a sober and chas- 
tened air of gayety diffused over the face of nature, peculiarly 
interesting to an old man ; and when he views the surrounding 
landscape withering under his eye, it seems as if he and nature 
vere taking a last farewell of each other, and parting with a 
melancholy smile; like a couple of old friends, who having 
sported away the spring and summer of life together, part at 
the approach of winter with a kind of prophetic fear that they 
are never to meet again. 

It is either my good fortune or mishap to be keenly suscepti- 
ble to the influence of the atmosphere; and I can feel in the 
morning, before I open my window, whether the wind is east- 
erly. It will not, therefore, I presume, be considered an ex- 
ravagant instance of vain-glory when I assert that there are 



222 SALMAGUNDI. 

few men who can discriminate more accurately in the different 
varieties of damps, fogs, Scotch-mists, and north-east storms, 
than myself. To the great discredit of my philosophy I con- 
fess I seldom, fail to anathematize and excommunicate the 
weather, when it sports too rudely with my sensitive system ; 
but then I always endeavour to atone therefor, by eulogizing 
it when deserving of approbation. And as most of my readers 
—simple folks ! make but one distinction, to-wit, rain and sun* 
shine;— living in most honest ignorance of the various nice 
shades which distinguish one fine day from another, I take the 
trouble, from time to time, of letting them into some of the 
secrets of nature ; — so will they be the better enabled to enjoy 
her beauties, with the zest of connoisseurs, and derive at least 
as much information from my pages, as from the weather- 
wise bore of the almanac. 

Much of my recreation since I retreated to the Hall, has 
consisted in making little excursions through the neighbour 
hood; which abounds in the variety of wild, romantic, and 
luxuriant landscape that generally characterizes the scenery in 
the vicinity of our rivers. There is not an eminence within a 
circuit of many miles but commands an extensive range of 
diversified and enchanting prospect. 

Often have I rambled to the summit of some favourite hill; 
and thence, with feelings sweetly tranquil as the lucid expanse 
of the heavens that canopied me, have noted the slow and 
almost imperceptible changes that mark the waning year. 
There are many features peculiar to our autumn, and which 
give it an individual character. The ' ' green and yellow mel- 
ancholy" that first steals over the landscape; — the mild and 
steady serenity of the weather, and the transparent purity of 
the atmosphere, speak, not merely to the senses, but the heart ; 
—it is the season of liberal emotions. To this suceeeds fantas- 
tic gayety, a motley dress, which the woods assume, where 
green and yellow, orange, purple, crimson, and scarlet, are 
whimsically blended together. A sickly splendour this !— like 
the wild and broken-hearted gayety that sometimes precedes 
dissolution; — or that childish sportiveness of superannuated 
age, proceeding, not from a vigorous flow of animal spirits, 
but from the decay and imbecility of the mind. We might, 
perhaps, be deceived by this gaudy garb of nature, were it not 
for the rustling of the falling leaf, which, breaking on the 
.stillness of the scene, seems to announce, in prophetic whis- 
pers, the dreary winter that is approaching. When I have 



SALMAGUNDI. 223 

sometimes seen a thrifty young oak changing its hue of sturdy 
vigour for a bright, but transient, glow of red, it has recalled 
to my mind the treacherous bloom that once mantled the 
cheek of a friend who is now no more; and which, while it 
seemed to promise a long life of jocund spirits, was the sure 
precursor of premature decay. In a little while and this 
ostentatious foliage disappears ; the close of autumn leaves but 
one wide expanse of dusky brown; save where some rivulet 
steals along, bordered with little strips of green grass; — the 
woodland echoes no more to the carols of the feathered tribes 
that sported in the leafy covert, and its solitude and silence is 
uninterrupted, except by the plaintive whistle of the quail, 
the barking of the squirrel, or the still more melancholy win- 
try wind, which, rushing and swelling through the hollows of 
the mountains, sighs through the leafless branches of the 
grove, and seems to mourn the desolation of the year. 

To one who, like myself, is fond of drawing comparisons 
between the different divisions of life, and those of the seasons, 
there will appear a striking analogy which connects the feel 
ings of the aged with the decline of the year. Often as I con- 
template the mild, uniform, and genial lustre with which the 
sun cheers and invigorates us in the month of October, and 
the aljnost imperceptible haze which, without obscuring, tem- 
pers all the asperities of the landscape, and gives to every 
object a character of stillness and repose, I cannot help com- 
paring it with that portion of existence, when the spring of 
youthful hope, and the summer of the passions having gone 
by, reason assumes an undisputed sway, and lights us on with 
bright but undazzling lustre adown the hill of life. There is a 
full and mature luxuriance in the fields that fills the bosom 
with generous and disinterested content. It is not the thought- 
less extravagance of spring, prodigal only in blossoms, nor the 
languid voluptuousness of summer, feverish in its enjoyments, 
and teeming only with immature abundance;— it is that cer- 
tain fruition of the labours of the past— that prospect of com- 
fortable realities, which those will be sure to enjoy who have 
improved the bounteous smiles of heaven, nor wasted away 
their spring and summer in empty trifling or criminal indul- 
gence. 

Cousin Pindar, who is my constant companion in these ex- 
peditions, and who still possesses much of the fire and energy of 
youthful sentiment, and a buxom hilarity of the spirits, often, 
indeed, draws me from these half-melanchoiy reveries, and 



224 SALMA G UNI)L 

makes me fee! young again by the enthusiasm with which he 
contemplates, and the animation with which he eulogizes the 
beauties of nature displayed before him. His enthusiastic dis- 
position never allows him to enjoy things by halves, and his 
feelings are continually breaking out in notes of admiration 
and ejaculations that sober reason niight perhaps deem ex- 
travagant : — But for my part, when I see a hale, hearty old 
man, who has jostled through the rough path of the world, 
without having worn away the fine edge of his feelings, or 
blunted his sensibility to natural and moral beauty, I compare 
him to the ever-green of the forest, whose colours, instead of 
fading at the approach of winter, seem to assume additional 
lustre when contrasted with the surrounding desolation ; — such 
a man is my friend Pindar ; — yet sometimes, and particularly at 
the approach of evening, even he will fall in with my humour; 
but he soon recovers his natural tone of spirits: and, mount- 
ing on the elasticity of his mind, like Ganymede on the eagle's 
wing, he soars to the ethereal regions of sunshine and fancy. 

One afternoon we had strolled to the top of a high hill in the 
neighbourhood of the Hall, which commands an almost bound- 
less prospect ; and as the shadows began to lengthen around us, 
and the distant mountains to fade into mists, my cousin was 
seized with a moralizing fit. "It seems to me," said he, giving 
his hand lightly on my shoulder, ' ' that there is just at this 
season, and this hour, a sympathy between us and the world 
we are now contemplating. The evening is stealing upon 
nature as well as upon us ; — the shadows of the opening day 
have given place to those of its close ; and the only difference 
is, that in the morning they were before us, now they are be- 
hind; and that the first vanished in the splendours of noon- 
day, the latter will be lost in the oblivion of night ; — our ' May 
of life,' my dear Launce, has for ever fled; and our summer is 

over and gone: but," continued he, suddenly recovering 

himself and slapping me gaily on the shoulder, — "but why 
should we repine? — what? though the capricious zephyrs of 
spring, the heats and hurricanes of summer, have given place 
to the sober sunshine of autumn ! — and though the woods begin 
to assume the dappled livery of decay! — yet the prevailing 
colour is still green : — gay, sprightly green. 

"Let us, then, comfort ourselves with this reflection; that 
though the shades of the morning have given place to those of 
the evening, — though the spring is past, the summer over, and 
the autumn come, — still you and I go on our way rejoicing;— 



8 ALMA G UND1. 225 

and while, like the lofty mountains of our southern America, 
our heads are covered with snow, still, like them, we feel 
the genial warmth of spring and summer playing upon our 

"bosoms." 



BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

In the description which I gave, some time since, of Cockloft- 
hall, I totally forgot to make honourable mention of the library; 
which I confess was a most inexcusable oversight; for in truth 
it would bear a comparison, in point of usefulness and -eccen- 
tricity, with the motley collection of the renowned hero of La 
Mancha. 

It was chiefly gathered together by my grandfather ; who 
spared neither pains nor expense to procure specimens of the 
oldest, most quaint, and insufferable books in the whole 
compass of English, Scotch, and Irish literature. There is a 
tradition in the family that the old gentleman once gave a 
grand entertainment in consequence of having got possession 
of a copy of a philippic, by Archbishop Anselm, against the 
unseemly luxury of long toed shoes, as worn by the courtiers 
in the time of William Bufus, which he purchased of an honest 
brickmaker in the neighborhood, for a little less than forty 
times its value. He had undoubtedly a singular reverence for 
old authors, and his highest eulogium on his library was, that 
it consisted of books not to be met with in any other collection ; 
and, as the phrase is, entirely out of print. The reason of 
which was, I suppose, that they were not worthy of being re- 
printed. 

Cousin Christopher preserves these relics with great care, 
and has added considerably to the collection ; for with the hall 
he has inherited almost all the whim- whams of its former pos- 
sessor. He cherishes a reverential regard for ponderous tomes 
of Greek and Latin ; though he knows about as much of these 
languages as a young bachelor of arts does a year or two after 
leaving college. A worm-eaten work in eight or ten volumes 
he compares to an old family, more respectable for its antiquity 
than its splendour ; — a lumbering folio he considers as a duke ; — 
a sturdy quarto, as an earl ; and a row of gilded duodecimos, as 
so many gallant knights of the garter. But as to modern 
works of literature, they are thrust into trunks and drawers, 



226 SALMAGUNDI, 

as intruding upstarts, and regarded with as much contempt as 
mushroom nobility in England ; who, having risen to grandeur, 
merely by their talents and services, are regarded as utterly 
unworthy to mingle their blood with those noble currents that 
can be traced without a single contamination through a long 
line of, perhaps, useless and profligate ancestors, up to William 
the bastard's cook, or butler, or groom, or some one of Kollo's 
freebooters. 

Will Wizard, whose studies are of a most uncommon com- 
plexion, takes great delight in ransacking the library ; and has 
been, during his late sojournings at the hall, very constant and 
devout in his visits to this receptacle of obsolete learning. He 
seemed particularly tickled with the contents of the great 
mahogany chest of drawers mentioned in the beginning of this 
work. This venerable piece of architecture has frowned, in 
sullen majesty, from a corner of the library, time out of mind ; 
and is filled with musty manuscripts, some in my grandfather's 
handwriting, and others evidently written long before his day. 

It was a sight, worthy of a man's seeing, to behold Will with 
his outlandish phiz poring over old scrawls that would puzzle 
a whole society of antiquarians to expound, and diving into 
receptacles of trumpery, which, for a century past, had been 
undisturbed by mortal hand. He would sit for whole hours, 
with a phlegmatic patience unknown in these degenerate days, 
except, peradventure, among the High Dutch commentators, 
prying into the quaint obscurity of musty parchments, until 
his whole face seemed to be converted into a folio leaf of black- 
letter; and occasionally, when the whimsical meaning of an 
obscure passage flashed on his mind, his countenance would 
curl up into ail expression of gothic risibility, not unlike the 
physiognomy of a cabbage leaf wilting before a hot fire. 

At such times there was no getting Will to join in our walks ; 
or take any part in our usual recreations ; he hardly gave us 
an oriental tale in a week, and would smoke so inveterately 
that no one else dared enter the library under pain of suffoca- 
tion. This was more especially the case when he encountered 
any knotty piece of writing ; and he honestly confessed to me 
that one worm-eaten manuscript, v/ritten in a pestilent crabbed 
hand, had cost him a box of the best Spanish segars before he 
could make it out ; and after all, it was not worth a tobacco^ 
stalk. Such is the turn of my knowing associate;— only let 
him get fairly in the track of any odd out-of-the-way whim- 
wham, and away he goes, whip and cut, until he either runs 



SALMAGUNDI. 227 

down his game, or runs himself out of breath;— I never in my 
life met with a man who rode his hobby-horse more intolerably 
hard than Wizard. 

One of his favourite occupations for some time past, has 
been the hunting of black-letter, which he holds in high re- 
gard ; and he often hints, that learning has been on the de- 
cline ever since the introduction of the Roman alphabet. An 
old book printed three hundred years ago, is a treasure ; and 
a ragged scroll, about one-half unintelligible, fills him with 
rapture. Oh ! with what enthusiasm will he dwell on the dis- 
covery of the Pandects of Justinian, and Livy 's history : and 
when he relates the pious exertions of the Medici, in recover- 
ing the lost treasures of Greek and Eoman literature, his eye 
brightens, and his face assumes all the splendour of an illumi- 
nated manuscript. 

Will had vegetated for a considerable time in perfect tran- 
quillity among dust and cobwebs, when one morning as we 
were gathered on the piazza, listening with exemplary patience 
to one of cousin Christopher's long stories about the revolu- 
tionary war, we were suddenly electrified by an explosion of 
laughter from the library. — My readers, unless perad venture 
they have heard honest Will laugh, can form no idea of the 
prodigious uproar he makes. To hear him in a forest, you 
would imagine — that is to say, if you were classical enough — 
that the satyrs and the dryads had just discovered a pair of 
rural lovers in the shade, and were deriding, with bursts of 
obstreperous laughter, the blushes of the nymph and the in- 
dignation of the swain ;— or if it were suddenly, as in the pres- 
ent instance, to break upon the serene and pensive silence of 
an autumnal morning, it would cause a sensation something 
like that which arises from hearing a sudden clap of thunder 
in a summer's day, when not a cloud is to be seen above the 
horizon. In short, I recommend Will's laugh as a sovereign 
remedy for the spleen : and if any of our readers are troubled 
with that villainous complaint, — which can hardly be, if they 
make good use of our works, — I advise them earnestly to get 
introduced to him forthwith. 

This outrageous merriment of Will's, as may be easily sup- 
posed, threw the whole family into a violent fit of wondering ; 
we all, with the exception of Christopher, who took the inter- 
ruption in high dudgeon, silently stole up to the library; and 
bolting in upon him, were fain at the first glance to join in his 
aspiring roar. His face, — but I despair to give an idea of his 



228 SALMAGUNDI, 

appearance ! — and until his portrait, which is now in the hand? 
of an eminent artist, is engraved, my readers must be content: 
—I promise them they shall one day or other have a striking 
likeness of Will's indescribable phiz, in all its native come- 
liness. 

Upon my inquiring the occasion of his mirth, he thrust an 
old, rusty, musty, and dusty manuscript into my hand, of 
which I could not decypher one word out of ten, without more 
trouble than it was worth. This task, however, he kindly took 
off my hands ; and, in a little more than eight and forty hours, 
produced a translation into fair Eoman letters; though he as- 
sured me it had lost a vast deal of its humour by being mod- 
ernized and degraded into plain English. In return for the 
great pains he had taken, I could not do less than insert it in 
our work. Will informs me that it is but one sheet of a stu- 
pendous bundle which still remains uninvestigated — who was 
the author we have not yet discovered, but a note on the back, 
in my grandfather's handwriting, informs us that it was pre 
sented to him as a literary curiosity by his particular friend, 
the illustrious Rip Van Dam, formerly lieutenant-governor of 
the colony of New Amsterdam; and whose fame, if it has 
never reached these latter days, it is only because he was toe- 
modest a man ever to do any thing worthy of being particu 
larly recorded. 



CHAP. CIX. OF THE CHEONICLES OP THE RENOWNED 
AND ANTIENT CITY OF GOTHAM. 

How Gotham city conquered was, 

And how the folk turn'd apes— because.— Link. Fid. 

Albeit, much about this time it did fall out that the thrice 
renowned and delectable city of Gotham did suffer great dis- 
comfiture, and was reduced to perilous extremity, by the in* 
vasion and assaults of the Hoppingtots. These are a people in- 
habiting a far distant country, exceedingly pleasaunte and fer- 
tile ; but they being withal egregiously addicted to migrations, 
do thence issue forth in mighty swarms, like the Scythians of 
old, overrunning divers countries, and commonwealths, and 
committing great devastations wheresoever they do go, by 
their horrible and dreadful feats and prowesses. They aro 



SALMAGUNDI. 229 

specially noted for being right valorous in all exercises of the 
leg; and of them it hath been rightly affirmed that no nation 
in all Christendom or elsewhere, can cope with them in the 
adroit, dexterous, and jocund shaking of the heel. 

This engaging excellence doth stand unto them a sovereign 
recommendation, by the which they do insinuate themselves 
into universal favour and good countenance ; and it is a nota- 
ble fact, that, let a Hoppingtot but once introduce a foot into 
company, and it goeth hardly if he doth not contrive to flour- 
ish his whole body in thereafter. The learned Linkum Fide- 
lius, in his famous and unheard-of treatise on man, whom he 
defineth, with exceeding sagacity, to be a corn-cutting, tooth- 
drawing animal, is particularly minute and elaborate in treat- 
ing of the nation of the Hoppingtots, and betrays a little of the 
Pythagorean in his theory, inasmuch as he accounteth for 
their being so wonderously adroit in pedestrian exercises, by 
supposing that they did originally acquire this unaccountable 
and unparalleled aptitude for huge and unmatchable feats of 
the leg, by having heretofore been condemned for their nume- 
rous offences against that harmless race of bipeds —or quadru- 
peds, — for herein the sage Linkum Fidelius appeareth to doubt 
and waver exceedingly — the frogs, to animate their bodies for 
the space of one or two generations. 

He also giveth it as his opinion, that the name of Hopping- 
tots is manifestly derivative from this transmigration. Be 
this, however, as it may, the matter, albeit it hath been the 
subject of controversy among the learned, is but little perti- 
nent to the subject of this history; whei*efore shall we treat 
and consider it as naughte. 

Now these people being thereto impelled by a superfluity of 
appetite, and a plentiful deficiency of the wherewithal to sat- 
isfy the same, did take thought that the antient and venerable 
city of Gotham, was, peradventure, possessed of mighty treas- 
ures, and did, moreover, abound with all manner of fish and 
flesh, and eatables and drinkables, and such like delightsome 
and wholesome excellencies withal. Whereupon calling a 
council cf the most active heeled warriors, they did resolve 
forthwith to put forth a mighty array, make themselves mas- 
ters of the same, and revel in the good things of the land. To 
this were they hotly stirred up, and wickedly incited, by two 
redoubtable and renowned warriors, hight pirouet and riga- 
doon; ycleped in such sort, by reason that they were two 
mighty, valiant, and invincible little men ; utterly famous for 



230 SALMAGUNDI. 

the victories of the leg which they had, on divers illustrious 
occasions, right gallantly achieved. 

These doughty champions did ambitiously and wickedly in- 
flame the minds of their countrymen, with gorgeous descrip- 
tions, in the which they did cunninglie set forth the marvel- 
lous riches and luxuries of Gotham; where Hoppingtots might 
have garments for their bodies, shirts to their ruffles, and) 
might riot most merrily every day in the week on beef, pud- 
ding, and such like lusty dainties.— They, Pirouet and Riga- 
doon, did likewise hold out hopes of an easy conquest ; foras- 
much as the Gothamites were as yet but little versed in the 
mystery and science of handling the legs ; and being, moreover, 
like unto that notable bully of antiquity, Achilles, most vul- 
nerable to all attacks on the heel, would doubtless surrender at 
the very first assault.— Whereupon, on the hearing of this in- 
spiriting counsel, the Hoppingtots did set up a prodigious great 
cry of joy, chook their heels in triumph, and were all impa- 
tience to dance on to Gotham and take it by storm. 

The cunning Pirouet and the arch caitiff Rigadoon, knew full 
well how to profit of this enthusiasm. They forthwith did 
order every man to arm himself with a certain pestilent little 
weapon, called a fiddle;— to pack up in his knapsack a pair of 
silk breeches, the like of ruffles, a cocked hat of the form of a 
half-moon, a bundle of catgut— and inasmuch as in marching 
to Gotham, the army might, peradventure, be smitten with 
scarcity of provisions, they did account it proper that each man 
should take especial care to carry with him a bunch of right 
merchantable onions. Having proclaimed these orders by 
sound of fiddle, they, Pirouet and Rigadoon, did accordingly 
put their army behind them, and striking up the right jolly 
and sprightful tune of Ca Ira, a way they all capered towards 
the devoted city of Gotham, with a most horrible and appalling 
chattering of voices. 

Of their first appearance before the beleaguered town, and of 
the various difficulties which did encounter them in their 
march, this history saith not ; being that other matters of more 
weighty import require to be written. When that the army of 
the Hoppingtots did peregrinate within sight of Gotham, and 
the people of the city did behold the villainous and hitherto 
unseen capers, and grimaces, which they did make, a most 
horrific panic was stirred up among the citizens ; and the sages 
of the town fell into great despondency and tribulation, as 
supposing that these invaders were of the race of the Jig-hees, 



SALMA UNDL 231 

who did make men into baboons when they achieved a con- 
quest over them. The sages, therefore, called upon all the 
dancing men, and dancing women, and exhorted them with 
great vehemeney of speech, to make heel against the invaders, 
and to put themselves upon such gallant defence, such glorious 
array, and such sturdy evolution, elevation, and transposition 
of the foot as might incontinently impester the legs of the Hop- 
pingtots, and produce their complete discomfiture. But so it 
did happen, by great mischance, that divers light-heeled youth 
of Gotham, more especially those who are descended from 
three wise- men, so renowned of yore for having most venture- 
somely voyaged oyer sea in a bowl, were, from time to time, 
captured and inveigled into the camp of the enemy ; ^yhere, 
being foolishly cajoled and treated for a season with outlandish 
disports and pleasantries, they were sent back to their friends, 
entirely changed, degenerated, and turned topsy-turvy; inso- 
much that they thought thenceforth of nothing but their heels, 
always essaying to thrust them into the most manifest point of 
view ; — and, in a word, as might truly be affirmed, did for ever 
after walk upon their heads outright. 

And the Hoppingtots did day by day, and at late hours of 
the night, wax more and more urgent in this their investment 
of the city. At one time they would, in goodly procession, 
make an open assault by sound of fiddle in a tremendous con- 
tra dance ; — and anon they would advance by little detachments 
and manoeuvres to c take the town by figuring in cotillions. 
But truly their most cunning and devilish craft, and subtilty, 
was made manifest in their strenuous endeavours to. corrupt 
the garrison, by a most insidious and pestilent dance called the 
Waltz. This, in good truth, was a potent auxiliary ; for, by it, 
were the heads of the simple Gotharnites most villainously 
turned, their wits sent a wool-gathering, and themselves on 
the point of surrendering at discretion even unto the very arms 
of their invading foemen. 

At length the fortifications of the town began to give mani- 
fest symptoms of decay ; inasmuch as the breastwork of de- 
cency was considerably broken down, and the curtain works 
of propriety blown up. When that the cunning caitiff Pirouet 
beheld the ticklish and jeopardized state of the city — u Now, 
by my leg," quoth he, — he alwaya swore by his leg, being that 
it was an exceeding goodlie leg; — " Now, by my leg," quoth he, 
■ ' but this is no great matter of recreation ; — I will show these 
people a pretty, strange, and new way forsooth, presentlie, 



232 SAL MA G UNDI. 

and will shake the dust off my pumps upon this most obstinate 
and uncivilized town." Whereupon he ordered, and did com- 
mand his warriors, one and all, that they should put themselves 
in readiness, and prepare to carry the town by a grand ball. 
They, in no wise to be daunted, do forthwith, at the word, 
equip themselves for the assault ; and in good faith, truly, it 
was a gracious and glorious sight, a most triumphant and in- 
comparable spectacle, to behold them gallantly arrayed in 
glossy and shining silk breeches tied with abundance of riband ; 
with silken hose of the gorgeous colour of the salmon ; — right 
goodlie morocco pumps decorated with clasps or buckles of a 
most cunninge and secret contrivance, inasmuch as. they did of 
themselves grapple to the shoe without any aid of fluke or 
tongue, marvellously ensembling witchcraft and necromancy. 
They had, withal, exuberant chitterlings ; which puffed out at 
the neck and bosom, after a most jolly fashion, like unto the 
beard of an antient he-turkey;— and cocked hats, the which 
they did carry not on their heads, after the fashion of the 
Gothamites, but under their arms, as a roasted fowl his gizzard. 
Thus being equipped, and marshalled, they do attack, assault, 
batter and belabour the town with might and main;— most gal- 
lantly displaying the vigour of their legs, and shaking their 
heels at it most emphatically. And the manner of their attack 
was in this sort ; — first, they did thunder and gallop forward 
in a centre-temps; — and anon, displayed column in a Cossack 
dance, a fandango, or a gavot. Whereat the Gothamites, in 
no wise understanding; this unknown system of warfare, mar- 
velled exceedinglie, and did open their mouths incontinently, 
the full distance of a bow-shot, meaning a cross-bow, in sore 
dismay and apprehension. Whereupon, saith Eigadoon, flour- 
ishing his left leg with great expression of valour, and most 
magniflc carriage — " my copesmates, for what wait we here; 
are not the townsmen already won to our favour?— do not their 
women and young damsels wave to us from the walls in such 
sort that, albeit there is some show of defence, yet is it mani- 
festly converted into our interests? 1 ' so saying, he made no 
more ado, but leaping into the air about a flight-shot, and 
crossing his feet six times, after the manner of the Hoppingtots, 
he gave a short partridge-run, and with mighty vigour and 
swiftness did bolt outright over the walls with a somerset. 
The whole army of Hoppingtots danced in after their valiant 
chieftain, with an enormous squeaking of fiddles, and a horrific 
blasting and brattling: of horns, insomuch that the dogs did 



SALMA G UNDL 233 

howl in the streets, so hideously were their ears assailed. The 
Gothamites made some semblance of defence, but their women 
having been all won over into the interest of the enemy, they 
were shortly reduced to make most abject submission; and de- 
livered over to the coercion of certain professors of the Hop- 
pingtots, who did put them under most ignominious durance, 
for the space of a long time, until they had learned to turn out 
their toe: and flourish their legs after the true manner of 
their conquerors. And thus, after the manner I have related, 
was the mighty and puissant city of Gotham circum vented, 
and taken by a coup de pied : or as it might by rendered, by 
force of legs. 

The conquerors showed no mercy, but did put all ages, sexes, 
and conditions to the fiddle and the dance ; and, in a word, 
compelled and enforced them to become absolute Hoppingtots. 
" Habit," as the ingenious Linkum Fidelius profoundly afflrm- 
eth, " is second nature." And this original and invaluable ob- 
servation hath been most aply proved, and illustrated, by the 
example of the Gothamites, ever since this disastrous and un- 
lucky mischance. In process of time, they have waxed to be 
most flagrant, outrageous, and abandoned dancers; they do 
ponder on noughte but how to gallantize it at balls, routs, and 
fandangoes ; insomuch that the like was in no time or place 
ever observed before. They do, moreover, pitifully devote 
their nights to the jollification of the legs, and their days for- 
sooth to the instruction and edification of the heel. And to 
conclude ; their young folk, who whilome did bestow a modi- 
cum of leisure upon the improvement of the head, have of late 
utterly abandoned this hopeless task ; and have quietly, as it 
were, settled themselves do^v n into mere machines, wound up 
by a tune, and set in nwtion hj a fiddle-stick 1 



234 SALMAGUNDI. 



NO. XVIII. -TUESDAY, NOV. 24, 1807. 



THE LITTLE MAN IN BLACK. 

BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

The following story has been handed down by Jtamily tradi- 
tion for more than a century. It is one on which my cousin 
Christopher dwells with more than usual prolixity ; and, being 
in some measure connected with a personage often quoted in 
our work, I have thought it worthy cf being laid before my 
readers. 

Soon after my grandfather, Mr. Lemuel Cockloft, had quietly 
settled himself at the hall, and just about the time that the 
gossips of the neighbourhood, tired of prying into his affairs, 
were anxious for some new tea-table topic, the busy communi- 
ty of our little village was thrown into a grand turmoil of 
curiosity and conjecture -a situation very common to little 
gossiping villages— by the sudden and unaccountable appear- 
ance of a mysterious individual. 

The object of this solicitude was a little black-looking man, 
of a foreign aspect, who took possession of an old building, 
which having long had the reputation of being haunted, was in 
a state of ruinous desolation, and an object of fear to all true 
believers in ghosts. He usually wore a high sugarloaf hat with 
a narrow brim; and a little black cloak, which, short as he 
was, scarcely reached below his knees. He sought no intimacy 
or acquaintance with any one ; appeared to take no interest in 
the pleasures or the little broils of the village ; nor ever talked ; 
except sometimes to himself in an outlandish tongue. He 
commonly carried a large book, covered with sheepskin, under 
his arm ; appeared always to be lost in meditation ; and was 
often met by the peasantry, sometimes watching the dawning 
of day, sometimes at noon seated under a tree poring over his 



SA LMA Q UNDL 235 

volume ; and sometimes at evening gazing with a look of sober 
tranquillity at the sun as it gradually sunk below the horizon. 

The good people of the vicinity beheld something prodig- 
iously singula?: in all this ; -a profound mystery seemed to 
hang about the stranger, which, with all their sagacity, they 
could not penetrate ; and in the excess of worldly charity they 
pronounced it a sure sign "that he was no better than he 
should be;" — a phrase innocent enough in itself: but which, as 
applied in common, signifies nearly every thing that is bad. 
The young people thought him a gloomy misanthrope, because 
he never joined in their sports ;— the old men thought still more 
hardly of him because he followed no trade, nor ever seemed 
ambitious of earning a farthing ; — and as to the old gossips, 
baffled by the inflexible taciturnity of the stranger, they unani- 
mously agreed that a man who could not or would not talk 
was no better than a dumb beast. The little man in black, 
careless of their opinions, seemed resolved to maintain the lib- 
erty of keeping his own secret ; and the consequence was, that, 
in a little while, the whole village was in an uproar ; — for in 
little communities of this description, the members have al- 
ways the privilege of being thoroughly versed, and even of 
meddling in all the affairs of each other. 

A confidential conference was held one Sunday morning 
after sermon, at the door of the village church, and the char- 
acter of the unknown fully investigated. The schoolmaster 
gave as his opinion, that he was the wandering Jew ;— the sex- 
ton was certain that he must be a free-mason from his silence ; 
—a third maintained, with great obstinacy, that he was a 
high German doctor ; and that the book which he earned about 
with him, contained the secrets of the black art; but the most 
prevailing opinion seemed to be that he was a witch ; — a race 
of beings at that time abounding in those parts ; and a saga- 
cious old matron, from Connecticut, proposed to ascertain the 
fact by sousing him into a kettle of hot water. 

Suspicion, when once afloat, goes with wind and tide, and 
soon becomes certainty. Many a stormy night was the little 
man in black, seen by the flashes of lightning, frisking and 
curveting in the air upon a broomstick ; and it was always ob- 
served, that at those times the storm did more mischief than 
at any other. The old lady in particular, who suggested the 
humane ordeal of the boiling kettle, lost on one of these occa- 
sions a fine brindle cow ; which accident was entirely ascribed 
to the vengeance of the little man in black. If ever a mis- 



236 SALMAGUNDI. 

• 
ehievous hireling rode his master's favourite horse to a distant 
frolic, and the animal was observed to be lame and jaded in 
the morning,— the little man in black was sure to be at the 
bottom of the affair ; nor could a high wind howl through the 
village at night but the old women shrugged up their shoul- 
ders, and observed, " the little man in black was in his tan- 
trums.'''' In short, he became the bugbear of every house; and 
was as effectual in frightening little children into obedience 
and hysterics, as the redoubtable Kaw-head-and-bloody-bones 
himself : nor could a housewife of the village sleep in peace, 
except under the guardianship of a horse-shoe nailed to the 
door. 

The object of these direful suspicions remained for some time 
totally ignorant of the wonderful quandary he had occasioned; 
but he was soon doomed to feel its effects. An individual who 
is once so unfortunate as to incur the odium of a village, is in 
a great measure outlawed and proscribed ; and becomes a mark 
for injury and insult; particularly if he has not the power or 
the disposition to recriminate. The little venomous passions, 
which in the great world are dissipate^, and weakened by 
being widely diffused, act in the narrow limits of a country 
town with collected vigour, and become rancorous in propor- 
tion as they are confined in their sphere of action. The little 
man in black experienced the truth of this ; every mischievous 
urchin returning from school, had full liberty to break his win- 
dows; and this was considered as a most daring exploit; for 
in such awe did they stand of him, that the most adventurous 
school boy was never seen to approach his threshold, and at 
night would prefer going round by the cross-roads, where a 
traveller had been murdered by the Indians, rather than pass 
by the door of his forlorn habitation. 

The only living creature that seemed to have any care or 
affection for this deserted being was an old turnspit,— the 
companion of his lonely mansion and his solitary wanderings ; 
— the sharer of his scanty meals, and, sorry am I to say it, the 
sharer of his persecutions. The turnspit, like his master, was 
peaceable and inoffensive ; never known to bark at a horse, to 
growl at a traveller, or to quarrel with the dogs of the neigh- 
bourhood. He followed close at his master's heels when he 
went out, and when he returned stretched himself in the sun- 
beams at the door; demeaning himself in all things like a civil 
and well-disposed turnspit. But notwithstanding his exemplary 
deportment, he fell likewise under the ill report of the village; 



SALMA G UNDL 237 

as being the familiar of the little man in black, and the evil 
spirit that presided at his incantations. The old hovel was 
considered as the scene of their unhallowed rites, and its harm- 
less tenants regarded with a detestation which their inoffen- 
sive conduct never merited.— Though pelted and jeered at by 
the brats of the village, and frequently abused by their 
parents, the little man in black never turned to rebuke them ; 
and his faithful dog, when wantonly assaulted, looked up 
wistfully in his master's face, and there learned a lesson of 
patience and forbearance. 

The movements of this inscrutable being had long been the 
subject of speculation at Cockloft-hall, for its inmates were full 
as much given to wondering as their descendants. The pa- 
tience with which he bore his persecutions particularly sur- 
prised them ; for patience is a virtue but little known in the 
Cockloft family. My grandmother, who it appears was rather 
superstitious, saw in this humility nothing but the gloomy sul- 
lenness of a wizard, who restrained himself for the present, in 
hopes of midnight vengeance ;— the parson of the village, who 
was a man of some reading, pronounced it the stubborn insen- 
sibility of a stoic philosopher; --my grandfather, who, worthy 
soul, seldom wandered abroad in search of conclusions, took a 
data from his own excellent heart, and regarded it as the hum- 
ble forgiveness of a Christian. But however different were 
their opinions as to the character of the stranger, they agreed 
in one particular, namely, in never intruding upon his soli- 
tude ; and my grandmother, who was at that time nursing my 
mother, never left the room without wisely putting the large 
family Bible in the cradle; a sure talisman, in her opinion, 
against witchcraft and necromancy. 

One stormy winter night, when a bleak north-east wind 
moaned about the cottages, and howled around the village 
steeple, my grandfather was returning from club, preceded by 
a servant with a lantern. Just as he arrived opposite the des- 
olate abode of the little man in black, he was arrested by the 
piteous howling of a dog, which, heard in the pauses of the 
storm, was exquisitely mournful; and he fancied now and 
then, that he caught the low 'and broken groans of some one in 
distress. — He stopped for some minutes, hesitating between the 
benevolence of his heart and a sensation of genuine delicacy, 
which, in spite of his eccentricity, he fully possessed, — and 
which forbade him to pry into the concerns of his neighbours. 
Perhaps, too, this hesitation might have been strengthened by 



238 SALMAGUNDI. 

a little taint of superstition ; for surely, if the unknown had 
been addicted to witchcraft, this was a most propitious night 
for his vagaries. At length the old gentleman's philanthropy 
predominated ; he approached the hovel, and pushing open the 
door, — for poverty has no occasion for locks and keys,— be- 
held, by the light of the lantern, a scene that smote his gen- 
erous heart to the core. 

On a miserable bed, with pallid and emaciated visage, and 
hollow eyes; — in a room destitute of every convenience; — 
without fire to warm, or friend to console him, lay this help- 
less mortal, who had been so long the terror and wonder of the 
village. His dog was crouching on the scanty coverlet, and 
shivering with cold. My grandfather stepped softly and hesi- 
tatingly to the bed-side, and accosted the forlorn sufferer in his 
usual accents of kindness. The little man in black seemed re- 
called by the tones of compassion from the lethargy into which 
he had fallen; for, though his heart was almost frozen, there 
was yet one chord that answered to the call of the good old 
man who bent over him ; the tones of sympathy, so novel to 
his ear, called back his wandering senses, and acted like a res- 
torative to his solitary feelings. 

He raised his eyes, but they were vacant and haggard ; — he 
put forth his hand, but it was cold ; he essayed to speak, but 
the sound died away in his throat ;— he pointed to his mouth 
with an expression of dreadful meaning, and, sad to relate! 
my grandfather understood that the harmless stranger, de- 
serted by society, was perishing with hunger !— with the quick 
impulse of humanity he despatched the servant to the hall for 
refreshment. A little warm nourishment renovated him for a 
short time, but not long:— it was evident his pilgrimage was 
drawing to a close, and he was about entering that peaceful 
asylum where " the wicked cease from troubling." 

His tale of misery was short, and quickly told : infirmities 
had stolen upon him, heightened by the rigours of the season: 
he had taken to his bed without strength to rise and ask for 
assistance ;— " and if I had," said he in a tone of bitter despot 
dency, "to whom should I have applied? I have no friend 
that I know of in the world!— the villagers avoid me as some- 
thing loathsome and dangerous; and here, in the midst of 
Christians, should I have perished, without a fellow-being to 
soothe the last moments of existence, and close my dying eyes, 
had not the howlings of my faithful dog excited your atten- 
tion." 



SALMAGUNDI. 239 

xie seemed deeply sensible of the kindness of my grand- 
father ; and at one time as he looked up into his old benefac- 
tor's face, a solitary tear was observed to steal adown the 
parched furrows of his cheek— poor outcast ! — it was the last 
tear he shed — but I warrant it was not the first by millions ! 
my grandfather watched by him all night. Towards morning 
fie gradually declined ; and as the rising sun gleamed through 
the window, he begged to be raised in his bed that he might 
look at it for the last time. He contemplated it for a moment 
with a kind of religious enthusiasm, and his lips moved as if 
engaged in prayer. The strange conjectures concerning him 
rushed on my grandfather's mind : " he is an idolater !" thought 
he, "and is worshipping the sun!" — He listened a moment and 
blushed at his own uncharitable suspicion ; he was only en- 
gaged in the pious devotions of a Christian. His simple orison 
being finished, the little man in black withdrew his eyes from 
the east, and taking my grandfather's hand in one of his, and 
making a motion with the other towards the sun; — " I love to 
contemplate it," said he, "'tis an emblem of the universal 
benevolence of a true Christian ; — and it is the most glorious 
work of him who is philanthropy itself!" My grandfather 
blushed still deeper at his ungenerous surmises ; he had pitied 
the stranger at first, but now he revered him :— he turned once 
more to regard him, but his countenance had undergone a 
change; — the holy enthusiasm that had lighted up each fea- 
ture, had given place to an expression of mysterious import;— 
a gleam of grandeur seemed to steal across his Gothic visage, 
and he appeared full of some mighty secret which he hesitated 
to impart. He raised the tattered nightcap that had sunk al- 
most over his eyes, and waving his withered hand with a slow 
and feeble expression of dignity, — "In me," said he, with la- 
conic solemnity, — "in me you behold the last descendant of 
the renowned Linkum Fidelius!" My grandfather gazed at 
him with reverence; for though he had never heard of the 
illustrious personage, thus pompously announced, yet there 
was a certain black-letter dignity in the name that peculiarly 
struck his fancy and commanded his respect. 

"You have been kind to me," continued the little man in 
black, after a momentary pause, "and richly will I requite 
your kindness by making you heir to my treasures ! In yon- 
der large deal box are the volumes of my illustrious ancestor, 
of which I alone am the fortunate possessor. Inherit them— 
ponder over them, and be wise !" He grew faint with the ex- 



240 SAL MA G UNDI. 

ertion he had made, and sunk back almost breathless on his 
pillow. His hand, which, inspired with the importance of his 
subject, he had raised to my grandfather's* arm, slipped from 
its hold and fell over the side of the bed, and his faithful dog 
licked it ; as if anxious to soothe the last moments of his mas- 
ter, and testify his gratitude to the hand that had so often 
cherished him. The untaught caresses of the faithful animal 
were not lost upon his dying master ; — he raised his languid 
eyes,— turned thern on the dog, then on my grandfather; and 
having given this silent recommendation, — closed them for 
ever. 

The remains of the little man in black, notwithstanding the 
objections of many pious people, were decently interred in the 
church-yard of the village; and his spirit, harmless as the 
body it once animated, has never been known to molest a 
living being. My grandfather complied, as far as possible, 
with his last request; he conveyed the volumes of Linkum 
Fidelius to his library ; — he pondered over them frequently ; — 
but whether he grew wiser, the tradition doth not mention. 
This much is certain, that his kindness to the poor descendant 
of Fidelius was amply rewarded by the approbation of his own 
heart and the devoted attachment of the old turnspit, who, 
transferring his affection from his deceased master to his ben- 
efactor, became his constant attendant, and was father to a 
long line of runty curs that still flourish in the family. And 
thus was the Cockloft library first enriched by the invaluable 
folios of the sage Linkum Fidelius. 



LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, 

TO ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL SLAVE-DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESS 
THE BASHAW OF TRIPOLI. 

Though I am often disgusted, my good Asem, with the vices 
and absurdities of the men of this country, yet the women 
afford me a world of amusement. Their lively prattle is as 
diverting as the chattering of the red-tailed parrot; nor can 
the green-headed monkey of Timandi equal them in whim and 
playfulness. But, notwithstanding these valuable qualifica- 
tions, I am sorry to observe they are not treated with half 



SALMAGUNDI. 241 

the attention bestowed on the before - mentioned animals. 
These infidels put their parrots in cages and chain their mon- 
keys ; but their women, instead of being carefully shut up in 
harems and seraglios, are abandoned to the direction of their 
own reason and suffered to run about in perfect freedom, like 
other domestic animals: — this comes, Asem, of treating their 
women as rational beings and allowing them souls. The conse- 
quence of this piteous neglect may easily be imagined : — they 
have degenerated into all their native wiidness, are seldom to 
be caught at home, and, at an early age, take to the streets 
and highways, where they rove about in droves, giving almost 
as much annoyance to the peaceable people as the troops of 
wild dogs that infest our great cities, or the flights of locusts 
that sometimes spread famine and desolation over whole re- 
gions of fertility. 

This propensity to relapse into pristine wiidness convinces 
me of the untameable disposition of the sex, who may indeed 
be partially domesticated by a long course of confinement and 
restraint, but the moment they are restored to personal free- 
dom, become wild as the young partridge of this country, 
which, though scarcely half hatched, will take to the . fields 
and run about with the shell upon its back. 

Notwithstanding their wiidness, however, they are remarka- 
bly easy of access, and suffer themselves to be approached ati 
certain hours of the day without any symptoms of apprenen- 
sion ; and I have even happily succeeded in detecting them at 
their domestic occupations. One of the most important of 
these consists in thumping vehemently on a kind of musical 
instrument, and producing a confused, hideous,, and indefina- 
ble uproar, which they call the description of a ^battle ; — a jest, 
no doubt, for they are wonderfully facetious at times, and 
make great practice of passing jokes upon strangers. Some- 
times they employ themselves in painting little caricatures of 
landscapes, wherein they display theis singular drollery in 
bantering nature fairly out of countenance ; representing her 
tricked out in all the tawdry finery of copper skies, jnirple 
rivers, calico rocks, red grass, clouds that look like old clothes 
set adrift by the tempest, and foxy trees whose melancholy 
foliage, drooping and curling most fantastically, reminds me 
of an undressed perriwig that I have now and then seen hung 
on a stick in a barber's window. At other times they employ 
themselves in acquiring a smattering of languages spoken by 
nations on the other side of the globe, as they find their own 



242 SALMAGUNDI. 

language not sufficiently copious to supply their constant de- 
mands and express their multifarious ideas. But their most 
important domestic avocation is to embroider, on satin or mus- 
lin, flowers of a nondescript kind, in which the great art is to 
make them as unlike nature as possible -—or to fasten little 
bits of silver, gold, tinsel, and glass on long strips of muslin, 
which they drag after them with much dignity whenever they 
go abroad ; — a fine lady, like a bird of paradise, being estimated 
by the length of her tail. 

But do not, my friend, fall into the enormous error of sup- 
posing that the exercise of these arts is attended with any use- 
ful or profitable result— believe me, thou couldst not indulge 
an idea more unjust and injurious ; for it appears to be an estab- 
lished maxim among the women of this country, that a lady 
loses her dignity when she condescends to be useful- and for- 
feits all rank in society the moment she can be convicted of 
earning a farthing. Their labours, therefore, are directed not 
towards supplying their household, but in decking their per- 
sons, and — generous souls!— they deck their persons, not so 
much to please themselves, as to gratify others, particularly 
strangers. I am confident thou wilt stare at this, my good 
Asem, accustomed as thou art to our eastern females, who 
shrink in blushing timidity even from the glance of a lover, 
and are so chary of their favours, that they even seem fearful 
of lavishing their smiles too profusely on their husbands. Here, 
on the contiHry, the stranger has the first place in female re- 
gard, and so fp v do they carry their hospitality, that I have 
seen a fine lady slight a dozen tried friends and real admirers, 
who lived in her smiles and made her happiness their study, 
meroly to allure the vague and wandering glances of a stranger, 
who viewed her person with indifference and treated her ad- 
vances with contempt. By the whiskers of our sublime 

bashaw, but this is highly flattering to a foreigner ! and thou 
mayest judge how particularly pleasing to one who is, like my- 
self, so ardent an admirer of the sex. Far be it from me to 
condemn this extraordinary manifestation of good will— let 
their own countrymen look to that. 

Be not alarmed, I conjure thee, my dear Asem, lest I should 
be tempted by these beautiful barbarians to break the faith I 
owe to the three-and-twenty wives from whom my unhappy 
destiny has perhaps severed me for ever:— no, Asem^ neither 
time nor the bitter succession of misfortunes^ that pursues me 
can shake from my heart the memory of former attachments, 



SALMAGUNDI. 243 

t listen with tranquil heart to the strumming and prattling of 
these fair syrens ; their whimsical paintings touch not the ten- 
der chord of my affections ; and I would still defy their fasci- 
nations, though they trailed after them trains as long as the 
gorgeous trappings which are dragged at the heels of the holy 
camel of Mecca : or as the tail of the great heast in our prophet's 
vision, which measured three hundred and forty -nine leagues, 
two miles, three furlongs, and a hand's breadth in longitude. 

The dress of these women is, if possible, more eccentric and 
whimsical than their deportment ; and they take an inordinate 
pride in certain ornaments which are probably derived from 

their savage progenitors. A woman of this country, dressed 

out for an exhibition, is loaded with as many ornaments as a 
Circassian slave when brought out for sale. Their heads are 
tricked out with little bits of horn or shell, cut into fantastic 
shapes, and they seem to emulate each other in the number of 
these singular baubles ; — like the women we have seen in our 
journeys to Aleppo, who cover their heads with the entire shell 
of a tortoise, and, thus equipped, are the envy of all their less 
fortunate acquaintance. They also decorate their necks and 
ears with coral, gold chains, and glass beads, and load their 
fingers with a variety of rings ; though, I must confess, I have 
never perceived that they wear any in their noses — as has been 
affirmed by many travellers. We have heard much of their 
painting themselves most hideously, and making use of bear's 
grease in great profusion ; but this, I solemnly assure thee, is a 
misrepresentation ; civilization, no doubt, having gradually ex- 
tirpated these nauseous practices. It is true, I have seen two 
or three of these females, who had disguised their features with 
paint ; but then it was merely to give a tinge of red to their 
cheeks, and did not look very frightful ; and as to ointment, 
they rarely use any now, except occasionally a little Grecian 
oil for their hair, which gives it a glossy, greasy, and, they 
think, very comely appearance. The last-mentioned class of 
females, I take it for granted, have been but lately caught, 
and still retain strong traits of their original savage propen- 
sities. 

The most flagrant and inexcusable fault, however, which I 
find in these lovely savages, is the shameless and abandoned 
exposure of their persons. Wilt not thou suspect me of exag- 
geration when I affirm;— wilt thou not blush for them, most 
discreet Mussulman, when I declare to thee, that they are so 
lost to all sense of modesty, as to expose the whole of their 



244 SALMAGUNDI. 

faces from their forehead to the chin, and they even go abroad 
with their hands uncovered ! — Monstrous indelicacy ! — 

But what I am going to disclose, will, doubtless, appear to 
thee still more incredible. Though I cannot forbear paying a 
tribute of admiration to the beautiful faces of these fair infi- 
dels, yet I must give it as my firm opinion, that their persons 
are preposterously unseemly. In vain did I look around me, 
on my first landing, for those divine forms of redundant pro- 
portions, which answer to the true standard of eastern beauty ; 
—not a single fat fair one could I behold among the multitudes 
that thronged the streets ; the females that passed in review 
before me, tripping sportively along, resembled a procession 
of shadows, returning to their graves at the crowing of the 
cock. 

This meagreness I first ascribed to their excessive volubility; 
for I have somewhere seen it advanced by a learned doctor, 
that the sex were endowed with a peculiar activity of tongue, 
in order that they might practise talking as a healthful exer- 
cise, necessary to their confined and sedentary mode of life. 
This exercise, it was natural to suppose, would be carried to 
great excess in a logocracy. — "Too true," thought I, u they 
have converted, what was undoubtedly meant as a beneficent 
gift, into a noxious habit, that steals the flesh from their bones 
and the rose from their cheeks — they absolutely talk themselves 
thin!" Judge then of my surprise when I was assured, not 
long since, that this meagreness was considered the perfection 
of personal beauty, and that many a lady starved herself, with 

all the obstinate perseverance of a pious dervise into a fine 

figure! u Nay, more," said my informer, " they will often 

sacrifice their healths in this eager pursuit of skeleton beauty, 
and drink vinegar, eat pickles, and smoke tobacco, to keep 
themselves within the scanty outlines of the fashions." — Faugh! 
Allah preserve me from such beauties, who contaminate their 
pure blood with noxious recipes; who impiously sacrifice the 
best gifts of Heaven, to a preposterous and mistaken vanity. 
Ere long I shall not be surprised to see them scarring their 
faces like the negroes of Congo, flattening their noses in imita- 
tion of the Hottentots, or like the barbarians of Ab-al Timar, 
distorting their lips and ears out of all natural dimensions. 
Since I received this information, I cannot contemplate a fine 
figure, without thinking of a vinegar cruet ; nor look at a dash- 
ing belle, without fancying her a pot of pickled cucumbers! 
What a difference, my friend, between these shades and the 



8 ALMA G UNDI. 245 

plump beauties of Tripoli, — what a contrast between an infidel 
fair one and my favourite wife Fatima, whom I bought by the 
hundred weight, and had trundled home in a wheel-barrow ! 

But enough for the present ; I am promised a faithful ac- 
count of the arcana of a lady's toilette — a complete initiation 
into the arts, mysteries, spells, and potions ; in short, the whole 
chemical process by which she reduces herself down to the 
most fashionable standard of insignificance; together with 
specimens of the strait waistcoats, the lacings, the bandages, 
and the various ingenious instruments with which she puts 
nature to the rack, and tortures herself into a proper figure to 
be admired. 

Farewell, thou sweetest of slave-drivers ! the echoes that re- 
peat to a lover's ear the song of his mistress, are hot more 
soothing than tidings from those we love. Let thy answer to 
my letters be speedy : and never, I pray thee, for a moment, 
cease to watch over the prosperity of my house, and the wel- 
fare of my beloved wives. Let them want for nothing, my 
friend; but feed them plentifully on honey, boiled rice, and 
water gruel ; so that when I return to the blessed land of my 
fathers, if that can ever be ! I may find them improved in size 
and loveliness, and sleek as the graceful elephants that range 
the green valley of Abimar. 

Ever thine, 

Mustapha. 



246 SALMAGUNDI. 



NO. XIX.-THURSDAY, DEC. 31, 1807. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

Having returned to town, and once more formally taken 
possession of my elbow-chair, it behooves me to discard the 
rural feelings, and the rural sentiments, in which I have for 
some time past indulged, and devote myself more exclusively 
to the edification of the town. As I feel at this moment a 
chivalric spark of gallantry playing around my heart, and one 
of those dulcet emotions of cordiality, which an old bachelor 
will sometimes entertain towards the divine sex, I am deter- 
mined to gratify the sentiment for once, and devote this num- 
ber exclusively to the ladies. I would not, however, have our 
fair readers imagine that we wish to flatter ourselves into their 
good graces; devoutly as we adore them!— and what true cava- 
lier does not, — and heartily as we desire to flourish in the mild 
sunshine of their smiles, yet we scorn to insinuate ourselves 
into their favour ; unless it be as honest friends, sincere well- 
wishers, and disinterested advisers. If in the course of this 
number they find us rather prodigal of our encomiums, they 
will have the modesty to ascribe it to the excess of their own 
merits; — if they find us extremely indulgent to their faults, 
they will impute it rather to the superabundance of our good- 
nature, than to any servile and illiberal fear of giving offence. 

The following letter of Mustapha falls in exactly with the 
current of my purpose. As I have before mentioned that his 
letters are without dates, we are obliged to give them very 
irregularly, without any regard to chronological order. 

The present one appears to have been written not long after 
his arrival, and antecedent to several already published. It is 
more in the familiar and colloquial style than the others. 
Will Wizard declares he has translated it with fidelity, ex- 
cepting that he has omitted several remarks on the waltz, 



SALMAGUNDI. 247 

which the honest Mussulman eulogizes with great enthusiasm; 
comparing it to certain voluptuous dances of the seraglio 
Will regretted exceedingly that the indelicacy of several of 
these observations compelled their total exclusion, as he 
wishes to give all possible encouragement to this popular and 
amiable exhibition. 



LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, 

TO MULEY HELIM AL RAGGI, SURNAMED THE AGREEABLE RAGA- 
MUFFIN, CHIEF MOUNTEBANK AND BUFFA-DANCER TO HIS HIGH- 

NESS. 

The numerous letters which I have written to our friend the 
slave-driver, as well as those to thy kinsman the snorer, and 
which, doubtless, were read to thee, honest Muley, have, in all 
probability, awakened thy curiosity to know further partic- 
ulars concerning the manners of the barbarians, who hold me 
in such ignominious captivity. I was lately at one of their 
public ceremonies, which, at first, perplexed me exceedingly 
as to its object ; but as the explanations of a friend have let 
me somewhat into the secret, and as it seems to bear no small 
analogy to thy profession, a description of it may contribute 
to thy amusement, if not to thy instruction. 

A few days since, just as I had finished my coffee, and was 
perfuming my whiskers, preparatory to a morning walk, I was 
waited upon by an inhabitant of this place, a gay young in- 
fidel who has of late cultivated my acquaintance. He pre- 
sented me with a square bit of painted pasteboard, which, he 
informed me, would entitle me to admittance to the city as- 
sembly. Curious to know the meaning of a phrase which was 
entirely new to me, I requested an explanation; when my 
friend informed me that the assembly was a numerous con- 
course of young people of both sexes, who, on certain occa- 
sions, gathered together to dance about a large room with 
violent gesticulation, and try to out-dress each other. — " In 
short," said he, "if you wish to see the natives in all their 
glory, there's no place like the City Assembly ; so you must 
go there, and sport your whiskers." Though the matter of 
Sporting my whiskers was considerably above my apprehen* 



248 SALMAGUNDI. J 



sion, yet I now began, as I thought, to understan i him. I had 
heard of the war dances of the natives, which i re a kind of 
religious institution, and had* little doubt but that this must 
be a solemnity of the kind— upon a prodigious great scale. 
Anxious as I am to contemplate these strange people in every 
situation, I willingly acceded to his proposal, and, to be the 
more at ease, I determined to lay aside my Turkish dress, and 
appear in plain garments of the fashion of this country ; as is 
my custom whenever I wish to mingle in a crowd without ex- 
citing the attention of the gaping multitude. 

It was long after the shades of night had fallen, before my 
friend appeared to conduct me to the assembly. " These in- 
fidels," thought I, u shroud themselves in mystery, and seek 
the aid of gloom and darkness, to heighten the solemnity of 
their pious orgies." Eesolving to conduct myself with that 
decent respect which every stranger owes to the customs of 
the land in which he sojourns, I chastised my features into an 
expression of sober reverence, and stretched my face into a 
degree of longitude suitable to- the ceremony I was about to 
witness. Spite of myself, I felt an emotion of awe stealing 
over my senses as I approached the majestic pile. My im- 
agination pictured something similar to a descent into the 
cave of Dom-Daniel, where the necromancers of the East are 
of taught their infernal arts. I entered with the same gravity 
demeanour that I would have approached the holy temple 
at Mecca, and bowed my head three times as I passed the 
threshold. " Head of the mighty Amrou !" thought I, on being 
ushered into a splendid saloon, u what a display is here ! surely 
I am transported to the mansions of the Tlouris, the elysium of 
the faithful!"— How tame appeared all the descriptions of en- 
chanted palaces in our Arabian poetry !— wherever I turned 
my eyes, the quick glances oi ! beauty dazzled my vision and 
ravished my heart ; lovely virgins fluttered by me, darting 
imperial looks of conquest, or beaming such smiles of invita- 
tion, as did Gabriel when he beckoned our holy prophet to 
Heaven. Shall I own the weakness of thy friend, good Muley? 
—while thus gazing on the enchanted scene before me, I, for 
a moment, forgot my country ; and even the memory of my 
three-and-twenty wives faded from my heart; my thoughts 
were bewildered and led astray by the charms of these bewitch- 
ing savages, and I sunk, for a while, into that delicious state of 
mind, where the senses, all enchanted, and all striving for 
mastery, produce an endless variety of tumultuous, yet pleas- 



8 ALMA G UNDL 249 

ing emotions. Oh, Muley, never shall I again wonder that an 
infidel should prove a recreant to the single solitary wife allot- 
ted to hira, when, even thy friend, armed with all the precepts 
of Mahomet, can so easily prove faithless to three-and-twenty ! 

"Whither have you led me?" said I, at length, to my com- 
panion, "and to whom do these beautiful creatures belong? 
Certainly this must be the seraglio of the grand bashaw of the 
city, and a most happy bashaw must he be, to possess treas- 
ures, which even his highness of Tripoli cannot parallel." 
"Have a care," cried my companion, "how you talk about 
seraglios, or you'll have all these gentle nymphs about your 
ears; for seraglio is a word which, beyond all others, they 
abhor; — most of them," continued he, "have no lord and 
master, but come here to catch one— they're in the' market, as 
we term it." "Ah, hah!" said I, exultingly, " then you really 
have a fair, or slave-market, such as we have in the east, 
where the faithful are provided with the choicest virgins of 

Georgia and Circassia? by our glorious sun of Afric, but I 

should like to select some ten or a dozen wives from so lovely 
an assemblage ! Pray, what would you suppose they might be 
bought for?" 

Before I could receive an answer, my attention was attracted 
by two or three good-looking, middle-sized men, who, being 
dressed in black, a colour universally worn in this country by 
the muftis and dervises, I immediately concluded to be high- 
priests, and was confirmed in my original opinion that this was 
a religious ceremony. These reverend personages are entitled 
managers, and enjoy unlimited authority in the assemblies, 
being armed with swords, with which, J am told, they would 
infallibly put any lady to death who infringed the laws of the 
temple. They walked round the room with great solemnity, 
and, with an air of profound importance and mystery, put a 
little piece of folded paper in each fair hand, which I concluded 
were religious talismans. One of them dropped on the floor, 
whereupon I slily put my foot on it, and, watching an oppor- 
tunity, picked it up unobserved, and found it to contain som^ 
unintelligible words and the mystic number 9. What were its 
virtues I know not; except that I put it in my pocket, and 
have hitherto been preserved from my fit of the lumbago, 
which I generally have about this season of the year, ever 
since I tumbled into the well of Zim-zim on my pilgrimage to 
Mecca. I enclose it to thee in this letter, presuming it to b@ 
particularly serviceable against the dangers of thy profession. 



250 SALMAGUNDI. 

Shortly after the distribution of these talismans, one of the 
high-priests stalked into the middle of the room with great 
majesty, and clapped his hands three times; a loud explosion 
of music succeeded from a number of black, yellow, and white 
musicians, perched in a kind of cage over the grand entrance. 
The company were thereupon thrown into great confusion and 
apparent consternation. — They hurried to and fro about the 
room, and at length formed themselves into little groups of 
eight persons, half male and half female; — the music struck 
into something like harmony, and, in a moment, to my utter 
astonishment and dismay, they were all seized with what I 
concluded to be a paroxysm of religious phrenzy, tossing about 
their heads in a ludicrous style from side to side, and indulging 
in extravagant contortions of figure; — new thro wing their heels 
into the air, and anon whirling round with the velocity of the 
eastern idolaters, who think they pay a grateful homage to the 
tsun by imitating his motions. I expected every moment to 
see them fall down in convulsions, foam at the mouth, and 
shriek with fancied inspiration. As usual the females seemed 
most fervent in their religious exercises, and performed them 
with a melancholy expression of feature that was peculiarly 
touching; but I was highly gratified by the exemplary conduct 
of several male devotees, who, though their gesticulations 
would intimate a wild merriment of the feelings, maintained 
throughout as inflexible a gravity of countenance as so many 
monkeys of the island of Borneo at their anticks. 

"And pray," said I, "who is the divinity that presides in 

this splendid mosque?" "The divinity !— oh, I understand — 

you mean the belle of the evening ; we have a new one every 
season: the one at present in fashion is that lady you see 
yonder, dressed in white, with pink ribands, and a crowd of 
adorers around her." "Truly," cried I, "this is the pleasant- 
est deity I have encountered in the whole course of my travels ; 
— so familiar, so condescending, and so merry withal ; — why, 
her very worshippers take her by the hand, and whisper in her 

ear." "My good Mussulman," replied my friend, with great 

gravity, ' ' I perceive you are completely in an error concern- 
ing the intent of this ceremony. You are now in a place of 
public amusement, not of public worship;— and the pretty- 
looking young men you see making such violent and grotesque 
distortions, are merely indulging in our favourite amusement 
of dancing." "I cry your mercy," exclaimed I, "these, then, 
<are the dancing men and women of the town, such as we have 



8 ALMA G JJNDL 25 1 

in our principal cities, who hire themselves out for the enter- 
tainment of the wealthy; — but, pray who pays them for this 

fatiguing exhibition?" My friend regarded me for a moment 

with an air of whimsical perplexity, as if doubtful whether I 

was in jest or earnest. " Sblood, man," cried he, " these are 

some of our greatest people, our fashionables, who are merely 

dancing here for amusement." Dancing for amusement! 

think of that, Muley !— thou, whose greatest pleasure is to chew 
opium, smoke tobacco, loll on a couch, and doze thyself into 

the regions of the Houris ! Dancing for amusement ! — shall 

I never cease having occasion to laugh at the absurdities of 
these barbarians, who are laborious in their recreations, and 
indolent only in their hours of business? Dancing for amuse- 
ment ! — the very idea makes my bones ache, and I never think 
of it without being obliged to apply my handkerchief to my 
forehead, and fan myself into some degree of coolness. 

"And pray," said I, when my astonishment had a little 
subsided, "do these musicians also toil for amusement, or are 
they confined to their cage, like birds, to sing for the gratifica- 
tion of others?— I should think the former was the case, from 
the animation with which they flourish their elbows." — "Not 
so," replied my friend, "they are well paid, which is no more 
than just, for I assure you they are the most important per- 
sonages in the room. The fiddler puts the whole assembly in 
motion, and directs their movements, like the master of a pup- 
pet-show, who sets all his pasteboard gentry kicking by a jerk 
of his fingers : — there, now — look at that dapper little gentle- 
man yonder, who appears to be suffering the pangs of disloca- 
tion in every limb : he is the most expert puppet in the room, 
and performs, not so much for his own amusement, as for that 
of the by-standers. " — Just then the little gentleman, having 
finished one of his paroxysms of activity, seemed to be looking 
round for applause from the spectators. Feeling myself really 
much obliged to him for his exertions, I made him a low bow 
of thanks, but nobody followed my example, which I thought 
a singular instance of ingratitude. 

Thou wilt perceive, friend Muley, that the dancing of these 
barbarians is totally different from the science professed by 
thee in Tripoli ; — the country, in fact, is afflicted by numerous 
epidemical diseases, which travel from house to house, from 
city to city, with the regularity of a caravan. Among these, 
the most formidable is this dancing mania, which prevails 
chiefly throughout the winter. It at first seized on a few neo- 



252 SALMAGUNDI 

pie of fashion, and being indulged in moderation, was a cheerful 
exercise ; but in a little time, by quick advances, it infected all 
classes of the community, and became a raging epidemic. 
The doctors immediately, as is their usual way, instead of 
devising a remedy, fell together by the ears, to decide whether 
it was native or imported, and the sticklers for the latter 
opinion traced it to a cargo of trumpery from France, as they 
had before hunted down the yellow-fever to a bag of coffee 
from the West Indies. What makes this disease the more 
formidable is, that the patients seem infatuated with their 
malady, abandon themselves to its unbounded ravages, and 
expose their persons to wintry storms and midnight airs, more 
fatal, in this capricious climate, than the withering Simoom 
blast of the desert. 

I know not whether it is a sight most wuimsical or melan- 
choly, to witness a fit of this dancing malady. The lady hops 
up to the gentleman, who stands at the distance of about three 
paces, and then capers back again to her place ; — the gentle- 
man of course does the same ; then they skip one way, then 
they jump another ; — then they turn their backs to each other ; 
— then they seize each other and shake hands ; then they whirl 
round, and throw themselves into a thousand grotesque and 
ridiculous attitudes; — sometimes on one leg, sometimes on the 
other, and sometimes on no leg at all;— and this they call ex- 
hibiting the graces!— By the nineteen thousand capers of the 
great mountebank of Damascus, but these graces must be 
something like the crooked-backed dwarf Shabrac, who is 
sometimes permitted to amuse his highness by imitating the 
tricks of a monkey. These fits continue at short intervals 
from four to five hours, till at last the lady is led off, faint, 
languid, exhausted, and panting, to her carriage; — rattles 
home;— passes a night of feverish restlessness, cold perspira- 
tions and troubled sleep ; — rises late next morning, if she rises 
at all, is nervous, petulant, or a prey to languid indifference 
all day ;— a mere household spectre, neither giving nor receiv- 
ing enjoyment ; in the evening hurries to another dance; re- 
ceives an unnatural exhilaration from the lights, the music, 
the crowd, and the unmeaning bustle; — flutters, sparkles, and 
blooms for a while, until the transient delirium being past, the 
infatuated maid droops and languishes into apathy again ; — is 
again led off to her carriage, and the next morning rises to go 
through exactly the same joyless routine. 

And yet, wilt thou believe it, my dear Raggi, these are 



SALMAGUNDI. 253 

rational beings : nay more, their countrymen would fain per- 
suade me they have souls ! — Is it not a thousand times to be 
lamented that beings, endowed with charms that might warm 
even the frigid heart of a dervise; — with social and endearing 
powers, that would render them the joy and pride of the 
harem; — should surrender themselves to a habit of heartless 
dissipation, which preys imperceptibly on the roses of the 
cheek; — which robs the eye of its lustre, the mouth of its 
dimpled smile, the spirits of their cheerful hilarity, and the 
limbs of their elastic vigour ;— which hurries them off in the 
spring-time of existence ; or, if they survive, yields to the arms 
of a youthful bridegroom a frame wrecked in the storms of 
dissipation, and struggling with premature infirmity. Alas, 
Muley ! may J not ascribe to this cause, the number of little 
old women I meet with in this country, from the age of eigh- 
teen to eight-and-twenty? 

In sauntering down the room, my attention was attracted 
by a smoky painting, which, on nearer examination, I found 
consisted of two female figures crowning a bust with a wreath 
of laurel. "This, I suppose," cried I, "was some favourite 
dancer in his time?" — " Oh, no," replied my friend, "he was 
only a general." — "Good; but then he must have been great 
at a cotillion, or expert at a fiddlestick — or why is his memorial 
here?" — " Quite the contrary," answered my companion, "his- 
tory makes no mention of his ever having flourished a fiddle- 
stick, or figured in a single dance. You have no doubt, heard 
of him: he was the illustrious Washington, the father and 
deliverer of his country ; and, as our nation is remarkable for 
gratitude to great men, it always does honour to their mem- 
ory, by placing their monuments over the doors of taverns, or 
in the corners of dancing-rooms." 

From thence my friend and I strolled into a small apart- 
ment adjoining the grand saloon, where I beheld a number of 
grave-looking persons with venerable gray heads, but without 
beards, which I thought very unbecoming, seated around a 
table, studying hieroglyphics ; — I approached them with rever- 
ence as so many magi, or learned men, endeavouring to expound 
the mysteries of Egyptian science: several of them threw 
down money, which I supposed was a reward proposed for 
some great discovery, when presently one of them spread his 
hieroglyphics on the table, exclaimed triumphantly, "two 
bullets and a bragger!" and swept all the money into his 
pocket. He has discovered a key to the hieroglypMcs, thought 



254 SALMAGUNDI. 

I ;— -happy mortal ! no doubt his name will be immortalized. 
Willing, however, to be satisfied, I looked round on my com- 
panion with an inquiring eye— he understood me, and in- 
formed me, that these were a company of friends, who had 
met together to win each other's money, and be agreeable. 
"Is that all?" exclaimed I, "why, then, I pray you, make 
way, and let me escape from this temple of abominations, or 
who knows but these people, who meet together to toil, worry, 
and fatigue themselves to death, and give it the name of pleas- 
ure ; — and who win each other's money by way of being agree- 
able ; — may some one of them take a liking to me, and pick my 
pocket, or break my head in a paroxysm of hearty good- will I" 

Thy friend, Mustapha. 



BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero 

Pulsanda iellus. — Hor. 

Now is the t3 T me for wine and myrthf ul sportes. 
For dance, and song, and disportes of syche sortes, 

—Link. Fid. 

The winter campaign has opened. Fashion has summoned 
her numerous legions at the sound of trumpet, tamborine, and 
drum ; and all the harmonious minstrelsy of the orchestra, to 
hasten from the dull, silent, and insipid glades and groves, 
where they have vegetated during the summer; recovering 
from the ravages of the last winter's campaign. Our fair ones 
have hurried to town, eager to pay their devotions to this tute- 
lary deity, and to make an offering at her shrine of the few 
pale and transient roses they gathered in their healthful re- 
treat. The fiddler rosins his bow, the card-table devotee is 
shufiling her pack ; the young ladies are industriously spang- 
ling muslins; and the tea-party heroes are airing their cha- 
peaux bras, and pease-blossom breeches, to prepare for figur- 
ing in the gay circle of smiles, and graces, and beauty. Now 
the fine lady forgets her country friends in the hurry of 
fashionable engagements, or receives the simple intruder, who 
has foolishly accepted her thousand pressing invitations, with 
such politeness that the poor soul determines never to come 
again;— now the gay buck, who erst figured at Bal)$to*\ ?^A 



SALMAGUNDI. 255 

quaffed the pure spring, exchanges the sparkling water for 
still more sparkling champaign; and deserts the nymph of the 
fountain, to enlist under the standard of jolly Bacchus. In 
short, now is the important time of the year in which to har- 
angue the bon-ton reader; and, like some ancient hero in front 
of the battle, to spirit him up to deeds of noble daring, or still 
more noble suffering, in the ranks of fashionable warfare. 

Such, indeed, has been my intention; but the number of 
cases which have lately come before me, and the variety of 
complaints I have received from a crowd of honest and well- 
meaning correspondents, call for more immediate attention. 
A host of appeals, petitions, and letters of advice are now be- 
fore me ; and I believe the shortest way to satisfy my peti- 
tioners, memorialists, and advisers, will be to publish their 
letters, as I suspect the object of most of them is merely to get 
into print. 



TO ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

Sir: — As you appear to have taken to yourself the trouble 
of meddling in the concerns of the beau monde, I take the 
liberty of appealing to you on a subject which, though con- 
sidered merely as a very good joke, has occasioned me great 
vexation and expense. You must know I pride myself on 
being very useful to the ladies : that is, I take boxes for them 
at the theatre, go shopping with them, supply them with 
bouquets, and furnish them with novels from the circulating 
library. In consequence of these attentions, I am become a 
great favourite, and there is seldom a party going on in the 
city without my having an invitation. The grievance I have 
to mention is the exchange of hats which takes place on these 
occasions; for, to speak my mind freely, there are certain 
young gentlemen who seem to consider fashionable parties as 
mere places to barter old clothes ; and I am informed that a 
number of them manage, by this great system of exchange, to 
keep their crowns decently covered without their halter suffer- 
ing in the least by it. 

It was but lately that I went to a private ball with a new 
hat, and on returning, in the latter part of the evening, and 
asking for it, the scoundrel of a servant, with a broad grin, 
informed me that the new hats had been dealt out half an hour 
since, and they were then on the third quality ; and I was in 



256 SALMAGUNDI. 

the end obliged to borrow a young lady's beaver rather than 
go home with any of the ragged remnants that were left. 

Now I would wish to know if there is no possibility of hav- 
ing these offenders punished by law; and whether it would 
not be advisable for ladies to mention in their cards of invita- 
tion, as a postscript, "stealing of hats and shawls positively 
prohibited." At any rate I would thank you, Mr. Evergreen, 
to discountenance the thing totally, by publishing in your 
paper that stealing a hat is no joke. 

Your humble servant, "Walter Withers. 

My correspondent is informed that the police have deter- 
mined to take this matter into consideration, and have set 
apart Saturday mornings for the cognizance of fashionable 
larcenies. 

Mr. Evergreen— Sir:— Do you think a married woman may 
lawfully put her husband right in a story, before strangers, 
when she knows him to be in the wrong; andean anything 
authorize a wife in the exclamation of — u lord, my dear, how 
can you say so?" Margaret Timson. 

Dear Anthony: — Going dewn Broadway this morning in a 
great hurry, I ran full against an object which at first put me 
to a prodigious nonplus. Observing it to be dressed in a man's 
hat, a cloth overcoat and spatterdashes, I framed my apology 
accordingly, exclaiming, "my dear sir, I ask ten thousand 
pardons; — I assure you, sir, it was entirely accidental: — pray 
excuse me, sir, " &c. At every one of these excuses the thing 
answered me with a downright laugh ; at which I was not a 
little surprised, until, on resorting to my pocket-glass, I dis- 
covered that it was no other than my old acquaintance, Cla- 
rinda Trollop ; — I never was more chagrined in my life ; for 
being an old bachelor, I like to appear as, young as possible, 
and am always boasting of the goodness of my eyes. I beg of 
you, Mr. Evergreen, if you have any feeling for your contem- 
poraries, to discourage this hermaphrodite mode of dress, for 
really, if the fashion take, we poor bachelox rt s will be utterly at 
a loss to distinguish a woman from a man. Pray let me know 
your opinion, sir, whether a lady who wears a man's hat and 
spatterdashes before marriage, may not be apt to usurp some 
other article of his dress afterwards. 

Your humble servant, Roderio Worry. 



SALMAGUNDI. 257 

Dear Mr. Evergreen :— The other night, at Richard the 
Third, I sat behind three gentlemen, who talked very loud on 
the subject of Richard's wooing Lady Ann directly in the face 
of his crimes against that lady. One of them declared such an 
unnatural scene would be hooted at in China. Pray, sir, was 
that Mr. Wizard? Selina Badger. 

P. S. The gentleman I allude to had a pocket-glass, and 
wore his hair fastened behind by a tortoise-shell comb, with 
two teeth wanting. 

Mr. Evergrin— /%>;— Being a little curious in the affairs of 
the toilette, I was much interested by the sage Mustapha's 
remarks, in your last number, concerning the art of manu- 
facturing a modern fine lady. I would have you caution your 
fail* readers, however, to be very careful in the management 
of their machinery; as a deplorable accident happened last 
assembly, in consequence of the architecture of a lady's figure 
not being sufficiently strong. In the middle of one of the 
cotillions, the company was suddenly alarmed by a tre- 
mendous crash at the lower end of the room, and, on crowding 
to the place, discovered that it was a fine figure which had 
unfortunately broken down from too great exertion in a 
pigeon wing. By great good luck I secured the corset, which 
I carried home in triumph; and the next morning had it 
publicly dissected, and a lecture read on it at Surgeon's Hall. 
I have since commenced a dissertation on the subject; in 
which I shall treat of the superiority of those figures manu- 
factured by steel, stay-tape, and whale-bone, to those formed 
by dame nature. I shall show clearly that the Venus de 
Medicis has no pretension to beauty of form, as she never 
wore stays, and her waist is in exact proportion to the rest of 
her body. I shall inquire into the mysteries of compression, 
and how tight a figure can be laced without danger of faint- 
ing ; and whether it would not be advisable for a lady, when 
dressing for a ball, to be attended by the family physician, as 
culprits are when tortured on the rack, to know how much 
more nature will endure. I shall prove that ladies have dis- 
covered the secret of that notorious juggler, who offered to 
squeeze himself into a quart bottle ; and I shall demonstrate, 
to the satisfaction of every fashionable reader, that there is a 
degree of heroism in purchasing a preposterously slender 
wakt at the expense of an old age of decrepitude and rheu- 



258 JSALMA Q UNDI. 

• 

matics. This dissertation shall be published as soon as fin- 
ished, and distributed gratis among boarding-school madams 
and all worthy matrons who are ambitious that their 
daughters should sit strait, move like clock-work, and "do 
credit to their bringing up." In the mean time, I have hung 
up the skeleton of the corset in the museum, beside a dissected 
weazle and a stuffed alligator, where it may be inspected by 
all those naturalists who are fond of studying the "human 
form divine." Yours, &c. Julian Cognous. 

P.S. By accurate calculation I find it is dangerous for a 
fine figure, when full dressed, to pronounce a word of more 
than three syllables. Fine Figure, if in love, may indulge in 
a gentle sigh ; but a sob is hazardous. Fine Figure may smile 
with safety, may even venture as far as a giggle, but must 
never risk a loud laugh. Figure must never play the part of 
a confidante; as at a tea-party some fine evenings since, a 
young lady, whose unparalleled impalpability of waist was the 
envy of the drawing-room, burst with an important secret, 
and had three ribs — of her corset!— fractured on the spot. 



Mr. Evergreen — Sir: — I am one of those industrious gem- 
men who labour hard to obtain currency in the fashionable 
world. I have went to great expense in little boots, short 
vests, and long breeches ; — my coat is regularly imported, per 
stage, from Philadelphia, duly insured against all risks, and 
my boots are smuggled from Bond-street. I have lounged in 
Broadway with one of the most crooked walking-sticks I could 
procure, and have sported a pair of salmon-coloured small- 
clothes, and flame-coloured stockings, at every concert and 
ball to which I could purchase admission. Being affeared 
that I might possibly appear to less advantage as a pedestrian. 
in consequence of my being rather short and a little bandy, I 
have lately hired a tall horse with cropped ears and a cocked 
tail, on which I have joined the cavalcade of pretty gemmen, 
who exhibit bright stirrups every fine morning in Broadway 
and take a canter of two miles per day, at the rate of three 
hundred dollars per annum. But, sir, all this expense has 
been laid out in vain, for I can scarcely get a partner at an 
assembly, or an invitation to a tea-party. Pray, sir, inform 
me what more I can do to acquire admission into the true 
stylish circles, and whether it would not be advisable to 



SAL^AG UNDL 259 

charter a curricle for a month and have my cypher put on it, 
as is done by certain dashers of my acquaintance. 

Yours to serve, Malvolio Dubster. 



TEA: A POEM. 



FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. 

And earnestly recommended to the attention of all Maidens of 

a certain age. 

Old time, my dear girls, is a knave who in truth 
From the fairest of beauties will pilfer their youth ; 
Who, by constant attention and wily deceit, 
For ever is coaxing some grace to retreat ; 
And, like crafty seducer, with subtle approach, 
The further indulged, will still further encroach. 
Since this " thief of the world" has made off with your bloom, 
And left you some score of stale years in its room— 
Has deprived you of all those gay dreams, that would dance 
In your brains at fifteen, and your bosoms entrance ; 
And has forc'd you almost to renounce, in despair, 
The hope of a husband's affection and care — 
Since such is the case, and a case rather hard ! 
Permit one who holds you in special regard, 
To furnish such hints in your loveless estate 
As may shelter your names from distraction and hate. 
Too often our maidens, grown aged, I ween, 
Indulge to excess in the workings of spleen ; 
And at times, when annoy'd by the slights of mankind, 
Work off their resentment — by speaking their mind : 
Assemble together in snuff -taking clan, 
And hold round the tea-urn a solemn divan. 
A convention of tattling— a tea party hight, 
Which, like meeting of witches, is brew'd up at night : 
Where each matron arrives, fraught with tales of surprise. 
With knowing suspicion and doubtful surmise ; 
Like the broomstick whiiTd hags that appear in Macbeth, 
Each bearing some relic of venom or death, 
" To stir up the toil and to double the trouble, 
That lire may bum, and that cauldron may bubble. " 



260 SALtiA G UNDL 

When the party commences, all starch'd and all glum, 
They talk of the weather, their corns, or sit \mira : 
They will tell you of cambric of ribands, of lace, 
How cheap they were sold — and will name you the place. 
They discourse of their colds, and they hem and they eough ; 
And complain of their servants to pass the time off ; 
Or list to the tale of some doating mamma 
How her ten weeks' old baby will laugh and say taa ! 

But tea, that enlivener of wit and of soul — 
More loquacious by far than the draughts of the bowl, 
Soon unloosens the tongue and enlivens the mind, 
And enlightens their eyes to the faults of mankind. 

'Twas thus with the Pythia, who served at the fount, 
That flow'd near the far-famed Parnassian mount, 
While the steam was inhal'd of the sulphuric spring, 
Her vision expanded, her fancy took wing; — 
By its aid she pronounced the oracular will 
That Apollo commanded his sons to fufill. 
But alas ! the sad vestal, performing the rite, 
Appear'd like a demon— terrific to sight. 

E'en the priests of Apollo averted their eyes, 
And the temple of Delphi resounded her cries, 
But quitting the nymph of the tripod of yore, 
We return to the dames of the tea-pot once more. 

In harmless chit-chat an acquaintance they roast, 
And serve up a friend, as they serve up a toast ; 
Some gentle faux pas, or some female mistake, 
Is like sweetmeats delicious, or relished as cake ; 
A bit of broad scandal is like a dry crust, 
It would stick in the throat, so they butter it first 
With a little affected good-nature, and cry 
" No body regrets the thing deeper than I." 
Our young ladies nibble a good name in play 
As for pastime they nibble a biscuit away : 
While with shrugs and surmises, the toothless old dame, 
As she mumbles a crust she will mumble a name. 
And as the fell sisters astonished the Scot, 
In predicting of Banquo's descendants the lot, 
Making shadows of kings, amid flashes of light, 
To appear in array and to frown in his sight, 
So they conjure up spectres all hideous in hue, 
Which, as shades of their neighbours, are passed in review. ' 



SALMAGUNDI. 261 

The wives of our cits of inferior degree, 
Will soak up repute in a little bohea ; 
The potion is vulgar, and vulgar the slang 
With which on their neighbours' defects they harangue ; 
But the scandal improves, a refinement in wrong ! 
As our matrons are richer and rise to souchong. 
With hyson— a beverage that's still more refin'd, 
Our ladies of fashion enliven their mind, 
And by nods, innuendoes, and hints, and what not, 
Keputations and tea send together to pot. 
While madam in cambrics and laces array'd, 
With her plate and her liveries in splendid parade, 
Will drink in imperial a friend at a sup, 
Or in gunpowder blow them by dozens all up. 
Ah me ! how I groan when with full swelling sail 
Wafted stately along by the favouring gale, 
A China ship proudly arrives in our bay, 
Displaying her streamers and blazing away. 
Oh ! more fell to our port, is the cargo she bears. 
Than grenadoes, torpedoes, or warlike affairs : 
Each chest is a bombshell thrown into our town 
To shatter repute and bring character down. 

Ye Samquas, ye Chinqua,s, Chouquas, so free, 
Who discharge on our coast 3 r our cursed quantums of tea, 
Oh think, as ye waft the sad weed fisom your strand, 
Of the plagues and vexations ye deal to our land. 
As the Upas' dread breath, o'er the plain where it flies, 
Empoisons and blasts each green blade that may rise, 
So, wherever the leaves of your shrub find their way, 
The social affections soon suffer decay : 
Like to Java's drear waste they embarren the heart, 
Till the blossoms of love and of friendship depart. 

Ah, ladies, and was it by heaven design'd, 
That ye should be merciful, loving and kind ! 
Did it form you like angels, and send you below 
To prophesy peace— to bid charity flow ! 
And have ye thus left your primeval estate, 
And wandered so widely — so strangely of late? 
Alas ! the sad cause I too plainly can see — 
These evils have all come upon you through tea ! 
Cursed weed, that can make our fair spirits resign 
The character mild of their mission divine ; 



262 SALMAGUNDI. 

That can blot from their bosoms that tenderness true, 

Which from female to female for ever is due ! 

Oh, how nice is the texture — how fragile the frame 

Of that delicate blossom, a female's fair fame ! 

'Tis the sensitive plant, it recoils from the breath 

And shrinks from the touch as if pregnant with death 

How often, how often, has innocence sigh'd ; 

Has beauty been reft of its honour— its pride; 

Has virtue, though pure as an angel of light, 

Been painted as dark as a demon of night : 

All off er'd up victims, an auto da fe, 

At the gloomy cabals— the dark orgies of tea ! 

If I, in the remnant that's left me of life, 
Am to suffer the torments of slanderous strife, 
Let me fall, I implore, in the slang- whanger's claw, 
"Where the evil is open, and subject to law. 
Not nibbled, and mumbled, and put to the rack, 
By the sly underminings of tea party clack : 
Condemn me, ye gods, to a newspaper roasting, 
But spare me ! oh, spare me, a tea table toasting ! 



NO. XX -MONDAY, JANUARY 25, 1808. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

Extremum hunc mihi concede labor em. Viro. 
" Soft you, a word or two before we part." 

In this season of festivity, when the gate of time swing?! 
open on its hinges, and an honest rosy-faced New- Year comes 
waddling in, like a jolly fat-sided alderman, loaded with good 
wishes, good humour, and minced pies;— at this joyous era it 
has been the custom, from time immemorial, in this ancient 
and respectable city, for periodical writers, from reverend, 
grave, and potent essayists like ourselves! down to the 
humble but industrious editors of magazines, reviews, and 
newspapers, to tender their subscribers the compliments of 
the season ; and when they have slily thawed their hearts with 



SALMAGUNDI. 

a little of the sunshine of flattery, to conclude by delr& 
dunning them for their arrears of subscription money, i 
like manner the carriers of newspapers, who undoubtedly 
belong to the ancient and honourable order of literati, do regu- 
larly, at the commencement of the year, salute their patrons 
with abundance of excellent advice, conveyed in exceeding 
good poetry, for which the aforesaid good-natured patrons are 
well pleased to pay them exactly twenty -five cents. In walk- 
ing the streets I am every day saluted with good wishes from 
old gray-headed negroes, whom I never recollect to have seen 
before ; and it was but a few days ago, that I was called to 
receive the compliments of an ugly old woman, who last 
spring was employed by Mrs. Cockloft to whitewash my room 
and put things in order; a phrase which, if rightly under- 
stood, means little else than huddling every thing into holes 
and corners, so that if I want to find any particular article, 
it is, in the language of an humble but expressive saying, — 
" looking for a needle in a haystack." Not recognizing my 
visitor, I demanded by what .authority she wished me a 
" Happy New- Year?" Her claim was one of the weakest she 
could have urged, for I have an innate and mortal antipathy 
to this custom of putting things to rights;— so giving the old 
witch a pistereen, I desired her forthwith to mount \er broom- 
stick, and ride off as fast as possible. 

Of all the various ranks of society, the bakers alone, to 
their immortal honour be it recorded, depart from this prac- 
tice of making a market of congratulations ; and, in addition 
to always allowing thirteen to the dozen, do with great liber- 
ality, instead of drawing on the purses of their customers at 
the New- Year, present them with divers large, fair, spiced 
cakes; which, like the shield of Achilles, or an Egyptian 
obelisk, are adorned with figures of a variety of strange 
animals, that, in their conformation, out-marvel ail the wild 
wonders of nature. 

This honest gray-beard custom of setting apart a certain 
portion of this good-for-nothing existence for the purposes of 
cordiality, social merriment, and good cheer, is one of the 
inestimable relics handed down to us from our worthy Dutch 
ancestors. In perusing one of the manuscripts from' my 
worthy grandfather's mahogany chest of drawers, I find the 
new year was celebrated with great festivity during that 
golden age of our city, when the reins of government were 
held by the renowned Rip Van Dam, who always did honour 



264 SALMAGUNDI. 

to tlie season by seeing out the old year ; a ceremony which 
consisted in plying his guests with bumpers, until not one of 
them was capable of seeing. " Truly," observes my grand- 
father, who was generally of these parties — " Truly, he was a 
most stately and magnificent burgomaster! inasmuch as he 
did right lustily carouse it with his friends about New- Year ; 
roasting huge quantities of turkeys; baking innumerable 
minced pies; and smacking the lips of all fair ladies the 
which he did meet, with such sturdy emphasis that the same 
might have been heard the distance of a stone's throw." In 
his days, according to my grandfather, were first invented 
these notable cakes, hight new-year-cookies, which originally 
were impressed on one side with the honest, burly counte- 
nance of the illustrious Bip ; and on the other with that of the 
noted St. Nicholas, vulgarly called Santaclaus ;— of all the 
saints in the kalendar the most venerated by true Hollanders, 
and their unsophisticated descendants. These cakes are to this 
time given on the first of January to all visitors, together with 
a glass of cherry-bounce, or raspberry-brandy. It is with 
great regret, however, I observe that the simplicity of this 
venerable usage has been much violated by modern pretend- 
ers to style! and our respectable new-year-cookies, and 
cherry-bounce, elbowed aside by plum-cake and outlandish 
liqueurs, in the same way that our worthy old Dutch families 
are out-dazzled by modern upstarts, and mushroom cockneys. 
In addition to this divine origin of new-year festivity; there 
is something exquisitely grateful, to a good-natured mind, in 
seeing every face dressed in smiles;— in hearing the oft- 
repeated salutations that flow spontaneously from the heart to 
the lips;— in beholding the poor, for once, enjoying the smiles 
of plenty, and forgetting the cares which press hard upon 
them, in the jovial revelry of the feelings;— the young children 
decked out in their Sunday clothes and freed from their only 
cares, the cares of the school, tripping through the streets on 
errands of pleasure ; — and even the very negroes, those holiday- 
loving rogues, gorgeously arrayed in cast-off finery, collected 
in juntos, at corners, displaying their white te 3th, and making 
the welkin ring with bursts of laughter, — loud enough to crack 
even the icy cheek of old winter. There is something so pleas- 
ant in all this, that I confess it would give me real pain to 
behold the frigid influence of modern style cheating us of this 
jubilee of the heart ; and converting it, as it does every other 
article of social intercourse, into an idle and unmeaning cere- 



SALMAGUNDI. 

mony. 'Tis the annual festival of good-humour ; — .u 
the dead of winter, when nature is without a charm, wl^s &- 
pleasures are contracted to the fireside, and when every tnfi 
that unlocks the icy fetters of the heart, and sets the genial 
current flowing, should be cherished, as a stray lamb found in 
the wilderness ; or a flower blooming among thorns and briers. 

Animated by these sentiments, it is with peculiar satisfaction 
I perceived that the last New- Year was kept with more than 
ordinary enthusiasm. It seemed as if the good old times had 
rolled back again and brought with thern all the honest, uncere- 
monious intercourse of those golden days, when people were 
more open and sincere, more moral, and more hospitable than 
now ; — when every object carried about it a charm which the 
hand of time has stolen away, or turned to a deformity ; when 
the women were more simple, more domestic, more lovely, and 
more true ; and when even the sun, like a hearty old blade as 
he is, shone with a genial lustre unknown in these degenerate 
days: — in short, those fairy times, when I was a mad-cap boy, 
crowding every enjoyment into the present moment ;— making 
of the past an oblivion ; — of the future a heaven ; and careless 
of all that was "over the hills and far away." Only one thing 
was wanting to make every part of the celebration accord with 
its ancient simplicity. The ladies, who— I write it with the 
most piercing regret — are generally at the head of all domestic 
innovations, most fastidiously refused that mark of good will, 
that chaste and holy salute which was so fashionable in the 
happy days of governor Eip and the patriarchs. Even the 
Miss Cocklofts, who belong to a family that is the last intrench- 
ment behind which the manners of the good old school have 
retired, made violent opposition ; — and whenever a gentleman 
entered the room, immediately put themselves in a posture of 
defence ; — this Will Wizard, with his usual shrewdness, insists 
was only to give the visitor a hint that they expected an 
attack ; and declares, he has uniformly observed, that the re- 
sistance of those ladies who make the greatest noise and bustle, 
is most easily overcome. This sad innovation originated with 
my good aunt Charity, who was as arrant a tabby as s ver wore 
whiskers ; and I a.m not a little afflicted to find that she has 
found so many followers, even among the young and beautiful. 

In compliance with an ancient and venerable custom, sanc- 
tioned by time and our ancestors, and more especially by my 
own inclinations, I will take this opportunity to salute my 
readers with as many good wishes as I can possibly spare ; for, 



266 SALMAGUNDI. 

in truth, I have been so prodigal of late, that J. have hut few 
remaining. I should have offered my congratulations sooner; 
hut, to be candid, having made the last new-year's campaign, 
according to custom, under cousin Christopher, in which I 
have seen some pretty hard service, my head has been some- 
what out of order of late, and my intellects rather cloudy for 
clear writing. Besides, I may allege as another reason, that I 
have deferred my greetings until this day, which is exactly 
one year since we introduced ourselves to the public; and 
surely periodical writers have the same right of dating from 
the commencement of their works that monarchs have from 
the time of their coronation ; or our most puissant republic 
from the declaration of its independence. 

These good wishes are warmed into more than usual benevo- 
lence by the thought that I am now, perhaps, addressing my old 
friends for the last time. That we should thus cut off our work in 
the very vigour of its existence may excite some little matter of 
wonder in this enlightened community. — Now, though we could 
give a variety of good reasons for so doing, yet it would be an 
ill-natured act to deprive the public of such an admirable oppor- 
tunity to indulge in their favourite amusement of conjecture : 
so we generously leave them to flounder in the smooth ocean 
of glorious uncertainty. Besides, we have ever considered it as 
beneath persons of our dignity to account for our movements 
or caprices ; — thank heaven, we are not like the unhappy rulers 
of this enlightened land, accountable to the mob for our actions, 
or dependent on their smiles for support !— this much, how- 
ever, we will say, it is not for want of subjects that we stop our 
career. We are net in the situation of poor Alexander the 
Great, who wept, as well indeed he might, because there were 
no more worlds to conquer; for, to do justice to this queer, odd, 
rantipole city and this whimsical country, there is matter 
enough in them to keep our risible muscles and our pens going 
until doomsday. 

Most people, in taking a farewell which may, perhaps, be 
for ever, are anxious to part on good terms ; and it is usual, on 
such melancholy occasions, for even enemies to shake hands, 
forget their previous quarrels, and bury all former animosities 
in parting regrets. Now, because most people do this, I am 
determined to act in quite a different way; for, as I have 
lived, so I should wish to die in my own way, without imita- 
ting any person, whatever may be his rank, talents, or reputa- 
tion. Besides, if I know our trio, we have no enmities to 



SALMAl . 

267 
obliterate, no hatchet to bury, and as to 
have long since forgiven. At this momeix- nr i e s— those v^(> 
individual in the world, not even the Pope himp, is ^.ot ai> 
we have any personal hostility. But if, shutting thtQ whoa? 
the many striking proofs of good-nature displayed throu 7 ^ s ^ 
whole course of this work, there should be any persons 1 ^ 
singularly ridiculous as to take offence at our strictures, we 
heartily forgive their stupidity ; earnestly entreating them to 
desist from all manifestations of ill-humour, lest they should, 
peradventure, be classed under some one of the denominations 
of recreants we have felt it our duty to hold up to public ridi- 
cule. Even at this moment we feel a glow of parting philan- 
throphy stealing upon us; — a sentiment of cordial good- will 
towards the numerous host of readers that have jogged on at 
our heels during the last year; and, in justice to ourselves, 
must seriously protest, that if at any time we have treated 
them a little ungently, it was purely in that spirit of hearty 
affection with which a schoolmaster drubs an unlucky urchin, 
or a humane muleteer his recreant animal, at the very moment 
when his heart is brim-full of loving-kindness. If this is not 
considered an ample justification, so much the worse ; for in 
that case I fear we shall remain for ever unjustified ; — a most 
desperate extremity, and worthy of every man's commisera- 
tion! 

One circumstance in particular has tickled us mightily as we 
jogged along, and that is the astonishing secrecy with which 
we have been able to carry on our lucubrations ! Fully aware 
of the profound sagacity of the public of Gotham, and their 
wonderful faculty of distinguishing a waiter by his style, it is 
with great self -congratulation we find that suspicion has never 
pointed to us as the authors of Salmagundi. Our gray-beard 
speculations have been most bountifully attributed to sundry 
smart young gentlemen, who, for aught we know, have no 
beards at all; and we have often been highly amused, when 
they were charged with the sin of writing what their harmless 
minds never conceived, to see them affect all the blushing 
modesty and beautiful embarrassment of detected virgin 
authors. The profound and penetrating public, having so 
long been led away from truth and nature by a constant 
perusal of those delectable histories and romances from be- 
yond seas in which human nature is for the most part 
wickedly tangled and debauched, have never once imagined 
thi^ w<V was a genuine and most authentic history; that tha 



268 SALMAGUNDI. 

Cocklofts were a real family, dwelling in the city; — paying 
scot and lot, entitled to the right of suffrage, and holding 
several respectable offices in the corporation.— As little do they 
suspect that there is a knot of merry old bachelors seated 
snugly in the old-fashioned parlour of an old-fashioned Dutch 
house, with a weathercock on the top that came from Holland, 
who amuse themselves of an evening by laughing at their 
neighbours in an honest way, and who manage to jog on 
through the streets of our ancient and venerable city without 
elbowing or being elbowed by a living soul. 

When we first adopted the idea of discontinuing this work, 
we determined, in order to give the critics a fair opportunity 
for dissection, to declare ourselves, one and all, absolutely 
defunct ; for, it is one of the rare and invaluable privileges of a 
periodical writer, that by an act of innocent suicide he may 
lawfully consign himself to the grave and cheat the world of 
posthumous renown. But we abandoned this scheme for 
many substantial reasons. In the first place, we care but 
little for the opinion of critics, who we consider a kind of free- 
booters in the republic of letters; who, like deer, goats, and 
divers other graminivorous animals, gain subsistence by gorg- 
ing upon the buds and leaves of the young shrubs of the forest, 
thereby robbing them of their verdure and retarding their pro- 
gress to maturity. It also occurred to us, that though an 
author might lawfully in all countries kill himself outright, 
yet this privilege did not extend to the raising himself from 
the dead, if he was ever so anxious ; and all that is left him in 
such a case is to take the benefit of the metempsychosis act 
and revive under a new name and form. 

Far be it, therefore, from us to condemn ourselves to useless 
embarrassments, should we ever be disposed to resume the 
guardianship of this learned city of Gotham, and finish this 
invaluable work, which is yet but half completed. We hereby 
openly and seriously declare, that we are not dead, but intend, 
if it pleases Providence, to live for many years to come ; — to 
enjoy life with the genuine relish of honest souls ; careless of 
riches, honours, and every thing but a good name, among 
good fellows ; and with the full expectation of shuffling off the 
remnant of existence, after the excellent fashion of that merry 
Grecian who died laughing. 



8ALMJL. 269 



TO THE LADIES. 

BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 



Next to our being a knot of independent old bachelors, there 
is nothing on which we pride ourselves more highly than upon 
possessing that true chivalric spirit of gallantry, which dis- 
tinguished the days of king Arthur, and his valiant knights of 
the Round-table. We cannot, therefore, leave the li§ts where 
we have so long been tilting at folly, without giving a farewell 
salutation to those noble dames and beauteous damsels who 
have honoured us with their presence at the tourney. Like 
true knights, the only recompense we crave is the smile of 
beauty, and the approbation of those gentle fair ones, whose 
smile and whose approbation far excels all the trophies of 
honour, and all the rewards of successful ambition. True it 
is, that we have suffered infinite perils in standing forth as 
their champions, from the sly attacks of sundry arch caitiffs, 
who, in the overflowings of their malignity, have even accused 
us of entering the lists as defenders of the very foibles and 
faults of the sex*. — Would that we could meet with these 
recreants hand to hand'; — they should receive no more quarter 
than giants and enchanters in romance. 

Had we a spark of vanity in our natures, here is a glorious 
occasion to show our skill in refuting these illiberal insinua- 
tions ; — but there is something manly, and ingenuous, in mak- 
ing an honest confession of one's offences when about retiring 
from the world ; — and so, without any more ado, we doff our 
helmets and thus publicly plead guilty to the deadly sin of 
good nature; hoping and expecting forgiveness from our 
good-natured readers, — yet careless whether they bestow it 
or not. And in this we do but imitate sundry condemned 
criminals, who, finding themselves convicted of a capital 
crime, with great openness and candour do generally in 
their last dying speech make a confession of all their pre- 
vious offences, which confession is always read with great 
delight by all true lovers of biography. 

Still, however, notwithstanding our notorious devotion to 
the gentle sex, and our indulgent partiality, we have endea- 



270 SALMAGUNDI. 

voured, on divers occasions, with all the polite and becoming 
delicacy of true respect, to reclaim them from many of those 
delusive follies and unseemly peccadilloes in which they are 
unhappily too prone to indulge. We have warned them 
against the sad consequences of encountering our midnight 
damps and withering wintry blasts;— we have endeavoured, 
'ivith pious hand, to snatch them from the wildering mazes of 
Ithe waltz, and thus rescuing them from the arms of strangers, 
to restore them to the bosoms of their friends; to preserve 
them from the nakedness, the famine, the cobweb muslins, the 
xdnegar cruet, the corset, the stay-tape, the buckram, and all 
the other miseries and racks of a fine figure. But, above all, 
we have endeavoured to lure them from the mazes of a dissi- 
pated world, where they wander about, careless of their value, 
until they lose their original worth ; — and to restore them, be- 
fore it is too late, to the sacred asylum of home, the soil most 
congenial to the opening blossom of female loveliness ; where it 
blooms and expands in safety, in the fostering sunshine of 
maternal affection, and where its heavenly sweets are best 
known and appreciated. 

Modem philosophers may determine the proper destination 
of the sex ; — they may assign to them an extensive and brilliant 
orbit, in which to revolve, to the delight of the million and the 
confusion of man's superior intellect; but when on this subject 
we disclaim philosophy, and appeal to the higher tribunal of 
the heart ; — and what heart that had not lost its better feelings, 
would ever seek to repose its happiness on the bosom of one 
whose pleasures all lay without the threshold of home;— who 
snatched enjoyment only in the whirlpool of dissipation, and 
amid the thoughtless and evanescent gayety of a ballroom. 
The fair one who is for ever in the career of amusement, may 
for a while dazzle, astonish, and entertain ; but we are content 
with coldly admiring ; and fondly turn from glitter and noise, 
to seek the happy fire-side of social life, there to confide our 
dearest and best affections. 

Yet some there are, and we delight to mention them, who 
mingle freely with the world, unsullied by its contaminations ; 
whose brilliant minds, like the stars of the firmament, are 
destined to shed their light abroad and gladden every beholder 
with their radiance ;— to withhold them from the world, would 
be doing it injustice ; — they are inestimable gems, which were 
never formed to be shut up in caskets ; but to be the pride and 
ornament of elegant society. 



SALMAGUNDI. 271 

We have endeavoured always to discriminate between a 
female of this superior order, and the thoughtless votary of 
pleasure; who, destitute of intellectual resources, is servilely 
dependent on others for every little pittance of enjoyment; 
who exhibits herself incessantly amid the noise, the giddy frolic, 
and capricious vanity of fashionable assemblages ; dissipating 
her languid affections on a crowd ; lavishing her ready smiles 
with indiscriminate prodigality on the worthy, or the undeserv- 
ing; and listening, with equal vacancy of mind, to the con- 
versation of the enlightened, the frivolity of the coxcomb, and 
the flourish of the fiddle-stick. 

There is a certain artificial polish, a commonplace vivacity 
acquired by perpetually mingling in the beau monde ; which, 
in the commerce of the world, supplies the place of natural 
suavity of good humour; but is purchased at the expense of all 
original and sterling traits of character. By a kind of fashion- 
able discipline, the eye is taught to brighten, the lip to smile, 
and the whole countenance to irradiate with the semblance of, 
friendly welcome, while the bosom is unwarmed by a single 
spark of genuine kindness or good- will. — This elegant simula- 
tion may be admired by the connoisseur of human character, 
as a perfection of art ; but the heart is not to be deceived by 
the superficial illusion; it turns with delight to the timid re- 
tiring fair one, whose smile is the smile of nature; whose 
blush is the soft suffusion of delicate sensibility ; and whose 
affections, unblighted by the chilling effects of dissipation, 
glow with all the tenderness and purity of artless youth. 
Hers is a singleness of mind, a native innocence of manners, 
and a sweet timidity, that steal insensibly upon the heart, and 
lead it a willing captive; though venturing occasionally among 
the fairy haunts of pleasure, she shrinks from the broad glare 
of notoriety, and seems to seek refuge among her friends, even 
from the admiration of ftie world. 

These observations bring to mind a little allegory in one of 
the manuscripts of the sage Mustapha ; which, being in some 
measure applicable to the subject of this essay, we transcribe 
for the benefit of our fair readers. 

Among the numerous race of the Bedouins, who people the 
vast tracts of Arabia Deserta, is a small tribe, remarkable for 
their habits of solitude and love of independence. They are of 
a rambling disposition, roving from waste to waste, slaking 
their thirst at such scanty pools as are found in those cheerless 
plains, and glory in the unenvied liberty they enjoy. A youth- 



£72 SA LMA G UXDI 

& 
ful Arab of this tribe, a simple son of nature, at length groyn- 
ing weary of his precarious and unsettled mode of life, deter- 
mined to set out in search of some permanent abode. "I will 
seek," said he, "some happy region, some generous clime, 
where the dews of heaven diffuse fertility ;— I will find out 
oome unfailing stream; and, forsaking the joyless life of my 
fore&ithers, settle on its borders, dispose my mind to gentle 
pleasures and tranquil enjoyments, and never wander more." 

Enchanted with this picture of pastoral felicity, he departed 
from the tents of his companions; and having journeyed 
during five days, on the sixth, as the sun was just rising in all 
the splendours of the east, he lifted up his eyes and beheld ex- 
tended before him, in smiling luxuriance, the fertile regions of 
Arabia the Happy. Gently swelling hills, tufted with bloom- 
ing groves, swept down into luxuriant vales, enameled with 
flowers of never- withering beauty. The sun, no longer darting 
his rays with torrid fervour, beamed with a genial warmth 
that gladdened and enriched the landscape. A pure and tem- 
perate serenity, an air of voluptuous repose, a smile of con- 
tented abundance, pervaded the face of nature; and every 
zephyr breathed a thousand delicious odours. The soul of the 
youthful wanderer expanded with delight ; — he raised his eyes 
to heaven, and almost mingled with his tribute of gratitude a 
sigh of regret that he had fingered so long amid the sterile 
solitudes of the desert. 

With fond impatience he hastened to make choice of a 
stream where he might fix his habitation, and taste the pro- 
mised sweets of this land of delight. But here commenced an 
unforeseen perplexity; for, though he beheld innumerable 
streams on every side, yet not one could he find which com- 
pletely answered his high-raised expectations. One abounded 
with wild and picturesque beauty, but it was capricious and 
unsteady in its course ; sometimes dashing its angry billows 
against the rocks, and often raging and overflowing its banks. 
Another flowed smoothly along, without even a ripple or a 
murmur ; but its bottom was soft and muddy, and its current 
dull and sluggish. A third was pure and transparent, but its 
waters were of a chilling coldness, and it had rocks and flints 
in its bosom. A fourth was dulcet in its tmklings, and graceful 
in its meanderings ; but it had a cloying sweetness that palled 
upon the taste ; while a fifth possessed a sparkling vivacity, 
and a pungency of flavour, that deterred the wanderer from 
repeating his draught. 



SALMAGUXDL 273 

The youthful Bedouin began to weary with fruitless trials 
and repeated disappointments, when his attention was sudden- 
ly attracted by a lively brook, whose dancing waves glittered 
in the sunbeams, and whose prattling current communicated 
an air of bewitching gayety to the surrounding landscape. 
The heart of the wayworn traveller beat with expectation; but 
on regarding it attentively in its course, he found that it con- 
stantly avoided the embowering shade; loitering with equal 
fondness, whether gliding through the rich valley, or over the 
barren sand;— that the fragrant flower, the fruitful shrub, and 
worthless bramble were alike fostered by its waves, and that 
its current was often interrupted by unprofitable weeds. With 
idle ambition, it expanded itself beyond its proper bounds, and 
spread into a shallow waste of water, destitute of beauty or 
utility, and babbling along with uninteresting vivacity and 
vapid turbulence. 

The wandering son of the desert turned away with a sigh of 
regret, and pitied a stream which, if content within its natural 
limits, might have been the pride of the valley, and the object 
of all his wishes. Pensive/ musing, and disappointed, he 
slowly pursued his now almost hopeless pilgrimage, and had 
rambled for some time along the margin of a gentle rivulet, 
before he became sensible of its beauties. It was a simple pas- 
toral stream, which, shunning the noonday glare, pursued its 
unobtrusive course through retired and tranquil vales ; — now 
dimpling among flowery banks and tufted shrubbery; now 
winding among spicy groves, whose aromatic foliage fondly 
bent down to meet the limpid wave. Sometimes, but not 
often, it would venture from its covert to stray through a 
flowery meadow ; but quickly, as if fearful of being seen, stole 
back again into its more congenial shade, and there lingered 
with sweet delay. Wherever it bent its course, the face of 
nature brightened into smiles, and a perennial spring reigned 
upon its borders. — The warblers of the woodland delighted to 
quit their recesses and carol among its bowers : while the tur- 
tle-dove, the timid fawn, the soft-eyed gazelle, and all tho 
rural populace, who joy in the sequestered haunts of nature, 
resorted to its vicinity . —Its pure, transparent waters rolled 
over snow-white sands, and heaven itself was reflected in its 
tranquil bosom. 

The simple Arab threw himself upon its verdant margin ; —he 
tasted the silver tide, and it was like nectar to his lips ; — he 
bounded with transport, for he had found the object of his 



274 SALMAGUNDI. 

wayfaring. "Here," cried he, "will I pitch my tent :— here 
will I pass my days; for pure, oh, fair stream, is thy gentle 
current ; beauteous are thy borders ; and the grove must be a 
paradise that is refreshed by thy meanderings !" 



Pendant opera interrupia. —Ylrg. 
The work's all aback. —Link. Fid. 

-'How hard it is," exclaimed the divine Confutse, better 
known among the illiterate by the name of Confucius, "for a 
man to bite off his own nose!" At this moment I, William 
Wizard, Esq., feel the full force of this remark, and cannot but 
give vent to my tribulation at being obliged, through the whim 
of friend Langstaff, to stop short in my literary career, when 
at the very point of astonishing my country, and reaping the 
brightest laurels of literature. We daily hear of shipwrecks, 
of failures and bankruptcies ; they are trifling mishaps which, 
from their frequency, excite but little astonishment or sym- 
pathy ; but it is not often that we hear of a man's letting im- 
mortality slip through his fingers; and when he does meet 
with such a misfortune, who would deny him the comfort of 
bewailing his calamity? 

Next to embargo, laid upon our commerce, the greatest 
public annoyance is the embargo laid upon our work; in 
consequence of which the produce of my wits, like that of my 
country, must remain at home ; and rny a ideas like so many 
merchantmen in port, or redoubtable frigates in the Potomac, 
moulder away in the mud of my own brain. I know of few 
things in this world more annoying than to be interrupted in 
the middle of a favourite story, at the most interesting part, 
where one expects to shine ; or to have a conversation broken 
off just when you are about coming out with a score of excel- 
lent jokes, not one of which but was good enough to make 
every fine figure in corsets split her sides with laughter. In 
some such predicament am I placed at present ; and I do pro- 
test to you, my good-looking and v^eli-beloved readers, by the 
chop-sticks of the immortal Josh, I was on the very brink of 
treating you with a full broadside of the most ingenious and 
instructive essaj^s that your precious noddles were ever both- 
ered with. 



salmagundi: 275 

In the first place, I had, with infinite labour and pains, and 
by consulting the divine Plato, Sanconiathon, Apollonius, 
Rhodius, Sir John Harrington, Noah Webster, Linkum Fidel- 
ius, and others, fully refuted all those wild theories respecting 
the first settlement of our venerable country ; and proved, be- 
yond contradiction, that America, so far from, being, as the 
writers of upstart Europe denominate, it, the new world, is at | 
least as old as any country in existence, not excepting Egypt, , 
China, or even the land of the Assiniboins; which, according! 
to the traditions of that ancient people, has already assisted at 
the funerals of thirteen suns and four hundred and seventy 
tk msand moons ! 

>j had likewise written a long dissertation on certain hiero- 
glyphics discovered on these fragments of the moon, which 
have lately fallen, with singular propriety, in a neighbouring 
state;— and have thrown considerable light on the state of 
literature and the arts in that planet ;— showing that ^the uni- 
versal language which prevails there is High Dutch ; thereby 
proving it to be the most ancient and original tongue, and cor 
roborating the opinion of a celebrated poet, that it is the lan- 
guage in which the serpent tempted our grandmother Eve. 

To support the theatric department, I had several very 
judicious critiques, ready written, wherein no quarter was 
shown either to authors or actors ; and I was only waiting to 
determine at what plays or performances they should be 
levelled. As to the grand spectacle of Cinderella, which is to 
be represented this season, I had given it a most unmerciful 
handling: showing that it was neither tragedy, comedy, nor 
farce; that the incidents were highly improbable, that the 
prince played like a perfect harlequin, that the white mice 
were merely powdered for the occasion, and that the new moon 
had a most outrageous copper nose. 

But my most profound and erudite essay in embryo is an 
analytical, hypercritical review of these Salmagundi lucubra- 
tions; which I had written partly in revenge for the many 
waggish jokes played off against me by my confederates, and 
partly for the purpose of saving much invaluable labour to the 
Zoiluses and Dennises of the age, by detecting and exposing all 
the similarities, resemblances, synonymies, analogies, coinci- 
dences, &c, which occur in this work. *\ 

I hold it downright plagiarism for any author to write, or ; 
even to think, in the same manner with any other writer that 
either did, doth, or may exist. It is a sage maxim of law~^ 



276 SALMAGUNDI. " 

" Ignorantia neminem exciisat "— and the same has been ex- 
tended to literature: so that if an author shall publish an idea 
that has been ever hinted by another, it shall be no exculpation 
for him to plead ignorance of the fact. All, therefore, that I 
had to do was to take a good pair of spectacles, or a magnify- 
ing glass, and with Salmagundi in hand, and a table full of 
books before me, to muse over them alternately, in a corner 
of Cockloft library: carefully comparing and contrasting all 
odd ends and fragments of sentences. Little did honest 
Launce suspect, when he sat lounging and scribbling in his 
elbow-chair, with no other stock to draw upon than his own 
brain, and no other authority to consult than the sage Linkum 
Fidelius !— little did he think that his careless, unstudied effu- 
sions would receive such scrupulous investigation. 

By laborious researches, and patiently collating words, 
where sentences and ideas did not correspond, I have detected 
sundry sly disguises and metamorphoses of which, I'll be 
bound, Langstaff himself is ignorant. Thus, for instance — 
The little man in black is evidently no less a personage than 
old Goody Blake, or goody something, filched from the Spec- 
tator, who confessedly filched her from Otway's " wrinkled 
hag with age grown double." My friend Launce has taken thfc 
honest old woman, dressed her up in the cast-off suit worn by 
Twaits, in Lampedo, and endeavoured to palm the imposture 
upon the enlightened inhabitants of Gotham. No further 
proof of the fact need be given, than that Goody Blake was 
taken for a witch; and the little man in black for a conjuror; 
and that they both lived in villages, the inhabitants of which 
were distinguished by a most respectful abhorrence of hobgob- 
lins and broomsticks ;— to be sure the astonishing similarity 
ends here, but surely that is enough to prove that the little 
man in black is no other than Goody Blake in the disguise of a 
white witch. 

Thus, also, the sage Mustapha in mistaking a brag party for 
a convention of magi studying hieroglyphics, may pretend to 
originality of idea, and to a familiar acquaintance with the 
black-letter literati of the east ;— but this Tripolitan trick will 
not pass here ;— I refer those who wish to detect this larceny to 
one of those wholesale jumbles yr hodge podge collections of 
science, which, like a tailor's pandemonium, or a giblet-pie, 
are receptacles for scientific fragments of all sorts and sizes.— 
The reader, learned in dictionary studies, will at once perceive 
I mean an encyclopaedia. There, under the title of magi, 



SALMAGUNDI. 27? 

Egypt, cards, or hieroglyphics, I forget which, will be dis- 
covered an idea similar to that of Mustapha, as snugly con- 
cealed as truth at the bottom of a well, or the mistletoe amic] 
the shady branches of an oak : and it may at any time be 
drawn from its lurking place, by those hewers of wood and 
drawers of water, who labour in humbler walks of criticism. 
This is assuredly a most unpardonable error of the sage Mus- 
tapha, who had been the captain of a ketch, and, of course, as 
your nautical men are for the most part very learned, ought to 
have known better. — But this is not the only blunder of the 
grave Mussulman, who swears by the head of Amrou, the 
beard of Barbarossa, and the sword of Khalid, as glibly as 
our good Christian soldiers anathematize body and soul, or a 
sailor his eyes and odd limbs. Now I solemnly pledge myself 
to the world, that in all my travels through the east, in Persia, 
Arabia, China, and Egypt, I never heard man, woman, or child 
utter any of those preposterous and new-fangled assevera- 
tions; and that, so far from swearing by any man's head, it is 
considered, throughout the east, the greatest insult that cau 
be offered to either the living or dead to meddle in any shape 
even with his beard. These are but two or three specimens of 
the exposures I would have made ; but I should have descended 
still lower; nor would have spared the most insignificant; 
and, or but, or nevertheless, provided I could have found a . 
ditto in the Spectator or the dictionary ; — but all these minutisG 
I bequeath to the Lilliputian literati of this sagacious conv 
munity, who are fond of hunting "such small deer," and 1 
earnestly pray they may find full employment for a twelve- 
month to come. 

But the most outrageous plagiarisms of friend Launcelot are 
those made on sundry living personages. Thus: Tom Strad- 
dle has been evidently stolen from a distinguished Brum- 
magem emigrant, since they both ride on horseback ;— Dabble, 
the little great man, has his origin in a certain aspiring coun- 
sellor, who is rising in the world as rapidly as the heaviness of 
his head will permit ; mine uncle John will bear a tolerable 
comparison, particularly as it respects the sterling qualities 
of his heart, with a worthy yeoman of Westchester county; — 
and to deck out Aunt Charity, and the amiable Miss Cocklofts, 
he has rifled the charms of half the ancient vestals in this city. 
N ay , he has taken unpardonable liberties with my own person ! 
—elevating me on the substantial pedestals of a worthy gen- 
tleman from China, and tricking me out with claret coats, 



278 SALMAGUJSDL 

tight breeches, and silver-sprigged dickeys, in such sort, that 1 
can scarcely recognize my own resemblance ; — whereas I abso- 
lutely declare that I am an exceeding good-looking man, 
neither too tall nor too short, too old nor too young, with a per- 
son indifferently robust, a head rather inclining to be large, s t, 
easy swing in my w r alk; and that I wear my own hair, neithe * 
queued, nor cropped, nor turned up, but in a fair, pendulous 
oscillating club, tied with a yard of nine-penny black riband. 

And now, having said all that occurs to me on the present 
pathetic occasion, — having made my speech, wrote my eulogy, 
and drawn my portrait, I bid my readers an affectionate fare- 
well; exhorting them to live honestly and soberly; — paying 
their taxes, and reverencing the state, the church, and the cor- 
poration; — reading diligently the Bible and the almanac, the 
newspaper, and Salmagundi; — which is all the reading an 
honest citizen has occasion for;— and eschewing all spirit of 
faction, discontent, irreligion, and criticism. 
Which is all at present, 

From their departed friend, 

William Wizard, 



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